


The Two Week Blind Date

by GeekLover



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Banter, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Forced Cohabitation, M/M, Pining, Quarantine, RPF, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:48:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 37,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28120404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeekLover/pseuds/GeekLover
Summary: Their date didn't end with a goodnight kiss and happily ever after, but it did end and Timmy was prepared to put it behind him. Now, thanks to being at the wrong place, at the wrong time - or what his friend Saoirse would call destiny - it's not the end after all. Not by a longshot.
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Comments: 101
Kudos: 147





	1. The Accidental Roommate

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt from @rainbowdazzle/ChunkMonk: Is anyone gonna write the Armie and Timmy are two strangers who have to quarantine together and don’t get along but then slowly come to fall in love with each other fic 
> 
> I was planning on posting the next chapter of Fight or Flight first, but this chapter was much easier to clean-up (and shorter) than the next one of FoF. I do plan on posting the next one of FoF next and very, very soon!
> 
> I've done a lot of internet research, but there's only so much I can get from Google, so please forgive any medical inaccuracies.
> 
> I'm still on the look-out for a beta, so if anyone reading this can help, or knows of anyone who can, please let me know. 😁😘

As Timmy walked to apartment twenty-seven, he reconsidered his decision every step of the way. He should have called the restaurant again. He should have searched his apartment longer. It always looked like a clothes bomb went off inside. More mess wouldn’t have made much of a difference. 

At the very least, he should have called Armie before just showing up. The reason he didn’t - at least the reason he convinced himself he didn’t - was because he didn’t know if Armie would hang up on him or not. To say things did not end well between them last night would have been putting it mildly. 

Stopping in front of the heavy-looking dark gray door, he crossed his arms over his chest instead of knocking. If anyone had a reason to hang up on the other, it was not Mr. Perfect Armie Hammer. Timmy was the one who had been insulted all night. Still, given that Timmy ended their date by basically telling him to lose his number, he was sure Armie had no desire to see him again.

And the feeling was 100% mutual. If he didn’t need his bracelet back he wouldn’t be here right now. Lifting his hand to knock, he was just about to make contact with the door when he dropped his hand.

“I can just get another bracelet.” He turned around but stopped and clenched his hands by his side.

That was a lie. It was his favorite bracelet. It was his grandmother’s bracelet. It was his grandmother’s bracelet which he promised to safeguard always. 

So, no, he couldn’t get another bracelet - not like that one. 

Heaving a great, big sigh, he turned around again and knocked quickly before he could change his mind. The seconds seemed to stretch out endlessly. After about a minute, he realized Armie may not be home.

Hanging his head, he leaned against the door. After all of his hemming and hawing, he wasn’t even home. To be safe, he knocked again. There was still no answer. He looked around the hallway and crossed his arms over his chest. 

Should he leave or hang around just twiddling his thumbs waiting for this guy to show up? It wasn’t like he had to be at work or had any pressing plans for the day, but he still was annoyed at the prospect of waiting around. 

Maybe he should just suck it up and call him. He stuffed his hand in his pocket and gripped his phone. He didn’t even have to talk to him, just text him to get his condescending, judgmental ass home and give him what he needed so they would then never have to see each other again. 

Still contemplating this, he was a bit startled when his phone buzzed in his hand. Pulling it out quickly, he glanced at the screen and groaned. It was a text from his best friend, Saoirse Ronan. Or, should he say his supposed best friend. This was all her fault.

She had repeatedly sold him on how her new friend Armie was such a sweet and amazing stand-up guy who would “make Greek Gods look like fugly Hunchbacks by comparison.” That turned out to be a total lie. 

Well, not a total lie - she hadn’t been wrong about Armie’s looks. He was without a doubt the most beautiful man Timmy had ever laid eyes on. What made his beauty stand out, even more, was that he didn’t seem to realize how big of a genetic lottery he’d won. For all the ways he felt he could knock Armie, the guy didn’t seem to have a conceited bone in his body. 

And, God, what a body! Breathtakingly tall and fit, he just knew if Armie put his mind to it, he could bend him in half and pound the -

“Fuck!” He shouted and shook his head. He was not going to go down this road. It didn’t matter how hot Armie was when the two of them just weren’t compatible.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he turned back to his phone.

“Be nice,” her text read.

At first, he suppressed an eye roll, but when he remembered she wasn’t there he let go with an epic one.

His phone vibrated.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

How did she always do that? He groaned.

“I’m not saying you don’t have a right to be annoyed - though to be honest, I think you’re overreacting.” Timmy could picture her shaking her head and sighing.

He gritted his teeth.

“But just remember he’s not Daniel.”

His stomach immediately dropped when he read that name and he stuffed his phone in his pocket. With just the thought of Daniel, a sickening combination of nostalgia and anger swept over him. 

Saoirse had no right. He turned around and pressed his head against the wall. 

The thing was he knew Armie wasn’t Daniel. They had only spent two hours together and he knew. He knew when he gently took Armie’s hand and intertwined their fingers and looked deeply into his eyes and the amount of caring reflected back took his breath away. In the over two years he knew him, Daniel had never looked at him like that.

Slapping his hand against the wall, he winced before pushing away from it.

“Screw this.” He couldn’t do this right now.

Whirling around, he ran smack dab into a solid wall of muscle. “Jesus Christ!” He gasped.

It was pretty easy for Timmy to guess who it was.

As they collided, he managed to knock over the large to-go cup in Armie’s hand. A geyser of brown liquid and ice - most likely an iced coffee - landed on Armie’s navy blue button-down and some on his denim jacket. 

Fortunately-at least fortunately for Timmy-very little of it landed on his very similar-looking jacket. 

Armie was too busy staring in open-mouthed horror at the mess spreading on his shirt to notice who bumped into him.

“Unbelievable! Why would you-” Finally looking up, his mouth snapped shut. Instead of blinking at his shirt, his dumbfounded look was aimed at Timmy.

All of his annoyance seemed to dissipate instantly which Timmy didn’t understand given how things had ended between them.

“Timmy...I wasn’t expecting to see you.” Armie managed to close his mouth and stop gaping at him like a fish.

It was on the tip of his tongue to snottily reply that he didn’t get to call him Timmy-only his friends did-but he stopped himself knowing it would be too bitchy. His mission was to get in and get out, being a jerk wouldn’t help with that.

“Yeah, well I didn’t expect to get drenched in coffee, so surprises all around, I guess.” He groaned inwardly. Way to side-step sounding too bitchy.

“Sorry about that.” Ignoring his comment, Armie frowned with a sheepish expression. “Though to be fair, I think I got it worse than you.” His gaze fell to his ruined shirt.

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry, I was just caught off guard.”

“I understand that.” Armie shifted on his feet before gesturing toward the door. “Do you want to come inside and get cleaned up?” 

Though he didn’t care about cleaning up, he nodded. 

As Armie unlocked the door, Timmy kept his distance before they stepped inside. They walked through a small narrow entryway. While Armie walked ahead, he stopped in his tracks just outside the living room. At dinner, Armie had indicated he lived comfortably but there was comfortable and there was...this. Even barely having stepped inside, he could easily see a celebrity feeling at home in an apartment like this. 

The living room was so massive, his whole apartment could fit inside. It had floor-to-ceiling windows covering the furthest wall. The colors didn’t exactly pop - mostly a mix of black, white, and blues.

When you stepped through the entryway, immediately to your left was a medium-sized round dining table. Going further, on top of a large blue and black checkered rug, there was one long white couch - next to it a blue end table with a black lamp on top. Angled in the corner there was an elliptical machine. 

Across from the couch in the corner was a navy blue armchair. Sandwiched in the middle was a gray ottoman. 

He had a huge - probably 60 inches - TV mounted on one wall with a large white drawer underneath. The TV was bracketed by a small round table with an expensive-looking white vase and a black bookshelf. All the books were neatly organized - everything in the place was immaculate. There wasn’t a lot of clutter. 

As his focus drifted away from the massive living room, he glanced to his right and did a double-take. To the right of the entry-way was a thin, black spiral staircase that wasn’t just for decoration.

“Is this a duplex?” He gestured with his thumb.

“Yeah,” Armie answered as he set the remainder of his drink on the black marble top bar in front of the kitchen adjacent to the living room.

At dinner, Armie said he didn’t have any roommates. This ginormous place was all his. He looked from the stairs to the living room and back again. 

When he finally turned around, it seemed like Armie finally noticed the gobsmacked look on his face. He crossed his arms over his chest and scuffed his toe against the hardwood floor. “I have some family money.”

“Which family? The Kardashians?”

Armie cracked a wide smile at the teasing comment.

It was a smile that didn’t just make him feel warm inside but gave him ideas. Ideas about how he’d love to see that smile before their lips met in a kiss that would have him forgetting his name. A smile he wanted to see looming over him before and after a night of amazing sex. It was a smile that could no doubt capture his heart and never let go.

The last thought almost made a returning smile bloom on his face until he realized the implications and he turned around and rubbed the back of his neck. He stared at the floor instead of risking a gaze at Armie’s face. 

As he finally got a hold of himself, he remembered something Saoirse had said. “I thought your mo-”

For once, his tact button got hit in time and he realized how inappropriate his question would have been. 

With the way his eyes clouded over, it seemed Armie suspected what he was getting at. He headed over to the kitchen and ripped off a couple of paper towels and he began to dab at his shirt.

“My dad’s helped me out a little.” Armie walked up to him and handed him a paper towel.

“Thanks,” he said as he took it.

He folded it over and over as he thought of what to say to break the tension. Finally, he decided to just do what he came there for.

“The reason I stopped by is I lost-”

“Your bracelet,” Armie cut in.

“Yes,” he answered in surprise. 

“I found it last night.” Armie perked up considerably.

Timmy sagged in relief. A part of him was worried it had slipped off in the restaurant and maybe someone else took it and Armie had no idea where it was. As much as he hadn’t been looking forward to coming over to Armie’s, he was glad now.

Stepping back into the kitchen. Armie threw the paper towel away before going to the sink and washing his hands. “I found it in my car this morning. I thought about taking it to Saoirse’s but...uh…” He trailed off as he turned off the sink.

“But what?” He walked toward the bar, which was the only thing between them.

“I…” Armie wiped his hands on a gray dish towel. He cleared his throat. “I didn’t want to put her in the middle - again.”

With how fidgety Armie was, he doubted that was the real reason, but he chose not to press him on it. Instead, he shrugged. “Why not? She put herself in the middle by setting us up.”

“True.” Armie grinned. “But still…” He stepped around the bar and approached him slowly. “I thought I’d wait and see if you’d call or…” He stuffed his hand in his pocket. “Well, I didn’t think you’d ever come here since you were hopping mad when you left last night.”

“‘Hopping mad.’” Timmy snorted at the phrase. “I wouldn’t say hopping mad. More like I was fucking pissed off.”

Armie grimaced. “Yeah, I was trying to be a little more diplomatic than that.” There was a frown on his face as he switched pockets. “I’m just really surprised…” He bit his lip and groaned. “Oh, no.”

It finally dawned on him what Armie had been doing with his pockets and then what his “oh, no” meant. He narrowed his eyes.

“Please, tell me you’re kidding?”

Without acknowledging his remark, Armie quickly stuffed both hands in the back pockets of his light blue jeans. His frown deepened. 

“You lost it?!” Timmy fisted his hair. 

“I don’t-I put it in my pocket this morning.” Armie shook his head. “I knew I probably shouldn’t have. I’m constantly putting things in there and losing them and I always remind myself I shouldn’t do it anymore but I forget-”

“Oh, my fucking God can you focus, please?” He exclaimed.

“I’m sorry.” Armie held up his hands before staring down at the floor as if he would miraculously find the missing item there. His chest was heaving and he seemed beside himself. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.” He licked his lips. “More than likely, it’s in my car.”

“But you don’t know that.” He turned and gestured to Armie’s coffee cup. “It could be at Starbucks.” He put his face in his hands and inhaled deeply, hoping it would help quell his anger, but no such luck. 

Logically, he knew Armie didn’t do this on purpose but given how their date had ended, a small part of him wasn’t so sure about that.

After only a few seconds, he looked up sharply at the guilt-ridden man before him. “Let me just recap this - you found my bracelet, put it in your pocket, even though you know you lose things there, and now it could be in your car or in the parking lot of the fucking Starbucks you just had to go to.”

This seemed to be Armie’s breaking point. “Look, it was an accident. All we have to do is check my car. I would think you could be a little more understanding considering you were the forgetful one who lost it in the first place because you were too busy being a drama queen.” 

He lost steam by the end and his last remark didn’t come out as cutting as he seemed to intend.

Despite there being some truth to his comments, his condescending tone reminded Timmy of the night before and it set him off. “So, I guess we can add that to the list.”

“What list?” Armie’s brow furrowed.

“The list of what a shitty person I am. I’m a drama queen. I’m forgetful. That’s on top of being a slob and too stupid for my job. Let’s not forget also that I’m a whore.”

Armie slapped his forehead so hard it seemed like it had to hurt. “For the fiftieth time, I did not call you a whore.”

Timmy marched right up to him. “When you insinuate you need to pay someone to sleep with you, what would you call it?”

That seemed to take some of the wind out of Armie’s sails and he scrubbed his hands over his face. He let out a slow breath. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“How would I know that?” He shrugged. “I barely know you, Armie and to be honest with you, I’m not interested in knowing any more than I do now.” His words dripped with ice. “Can we please just go to your car and see if my bracelet is there?”

Armie bit his lip and his eyes seemed to be glistening. It startled Timmy that his words seemed to affect him that much. Even though he was still frustrated and annoyed, he considered softening the blow.

“Fine,” Armie replied before he could open his mouth. “But my shirt is sticking to me, so I need to change first.” He pulled his shirt away from his skin. “I’ll be right back.” He ran towards the stairs before Timmy could respond.

“Don’t take all day,” he called after him, muttering, “I don’t want to be here any longer than I need to.”

If this were his place, he probably would have punched a hole in the wall, but he restrained himself and just began to pace again. It was like deja vu. Things started so well and then turned to shit. The only difference was Armie was the one who stomped off this time.

Thinking about the dejected expression on Armie’s face - last night and just now - he felt like a jerk, even if Armie had no one but himself to blame. Despite what Armie or Saoirse said he didn’t think he was being a drama queen. His interpretation of Armie’s comment was valid. Armie was the one who screwed up, not him.

“I have nothing to be sorry for.” It sounded hollow to his ears.

Out of nowhere, there was a loud knock on the door which caused him to jump almost a foot off the ground. Clutching his chest, he turned toward the door. Whoever was there was impatient and rang the doorbell a few seconds later.

“Armie, there’s someone at the door!”

It took a few moments, but Armie stuck his head out. “What?”

“Someone’s at your door.” He rolled his eyes. 

“I’m not expecting anyone.” Armie’s nose scrunched - he refused to say cutely. 

“Well,” he sighed, “I don’t know if you’re aware of this but people can show up unexpectedly.” The sarcasm was thick enough to choke both of them. “I certainly did.”

“And that turned out so well for me.”

Armie’s sarcasm game was unexpectedly strong and it was almost enough for Timmy to tip his proverbial hat at him, but he flipped him off instead.

When another forceful knock echoed through the apartment soon after, followed by the doorbell, he threw up his hands. “For fuck’s sake!” He began to march toward the door.

“What are you doing?” Armie cried.

“I’m answering it.” He shot back without stopping.

“You can’t answer somebody else’s door.” Armie admonished him, his voice shrill.

“Really?” He threw a glance over his shoulder. “Looks like I can.” He ripped open the door.

The smug smirk fell from his lips when he turned and saw who was standing there. He was taken aback to see an older sandy-haired man there with a face mask, face shield, and thick black rubber gloves. The man looked like he stepped off the set of _The Good Doctor._

If it weren’t for the face mask and shield he’d wonder what kind of freaky shit Armie was into. 

“Are you Armand Douglas Hammer?” The man looked at him and flashed a brief grin. 

He had a very warm and soothing voice, which almost distracted Timmy from how disturbed he was by his appearance.

Before he had a chance to answer the question, Armie came running up next to him. When Timmy glanced at him, he almost choked on his tongue.

Armie was still buttoning up a black button-down shirt. His chest hair was on full display and Timmy had to ball his hands into fists to keep from reaching out and running his fingers through the broad expanse of soft-looking hair.

Finally, he picked up on Armie’s wide eyes as he stared at the mysterious visitor. Armie’s lips were moving but the sound didn’t reach his hormone-addled brain. 

When his brain finally recovered he heard the stranger repeat his previous question. “Are you Armand Douglas Hammer?”

Just as Armie was about to respond, he cut him off.

“Wait, first who the fuck are you?”

“I’m sorry. You’ll have to forgive my foul-mouthed friend here.” Armie let out a weak, dry chuckle.

“I wouldn’t exactly use the word ‘friend’ to describe us.” He rolled his eyes.

“Fine.” Armie gritted his teeth. “But there’s no reason I can’t answer his question. It’s not as if he’s asking for my social security number,”

“Still some rando off the street - looking like he’s doing _Grey’s Anatomy_ cosplay - asks your full name and you don’t think that’s a little weird?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “He’s the stranger. Let him answer the questions.”

After rolling his eyes to the ceiling, Armie huffed. “I guess you have a point.”

“Thank you.” He nodded.

They both turned toward the patient man expectantly.

“Alright.” He chuckled. “I am Dr. Michael Stuhlbarg. I’m an epidemiologist from the Center For Disease Control and I’m here to speak with Armand Douglas Hammer.” He repeated Armie’s full name slowly. 

“That’s him.” Timmy instantly pointed to Armie and stepped aside to let him take over.

A growing pit was forming in his stomach. An epidemiologist from the CDC. Honestly, he should have put it together sooner. The only excuse he had was that he got so distracted by his situation with Armie-and frustrated with him-that he somehow forgot about the horrible virus plaguing the world.

One look at Armie’s face and he could tell he also realized what was the likely reason for the doctor’s presence.

“Oh, God.” Armie slowly ran his hand through his hair. “This is about Mr. Perry, isn’t it?”

“Who’s that?” Timmy’s head whipped around, his brow furrowed.

“He’s an older neighbor of mine.” Armie looked between the two of them as he explained. “I saw him coughing a lot the other day when he got on the elevator. I even took the stairs instead of getting on the same elevator. Does he have the virus?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” Dr. Stuhlbarg shook his head. “I don’t have any indication anyone else in your building has been exposed. It will help if you could tell me if you’ve had close contact with anyone else here in the last three or four days.”

Armie started to chew on his thumbnail before immediately stopping when the doctor gave him a pointed look.

“I don’t know many people here, so no.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Is there anyone else you’ve been in close contact with besides your boyfriend?” He nodded toward Timmy.

“Well-” The comment died on Armie’s tongue.

They turned to each other and stared at each other with matching wide-eyed expressions before turning back to the doctor.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“I’m not his boyfriend.”

They spoke at the same time.

It was Dr. Stuhlbarg’s turn to look surprised.

“Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just the way you were bickering earlier you seemed like an old married couple.”

The pink that developed on Armie’s cheeks would have been adorable if Timmy wasn’t sure his cheeks were the same color.

“And the way he was…” He pointed to Timmy. “...Looking…” The doctor trailed off.

Now he was sure his cheeks were no longer pink but bright red and his entire face matched in color. After looking away, he cleared his throat.

“I don’t know what you think you saw but you’re wrong.” He glared at the doctor. “You’re a doctor. You should know better than to make assumptions. He’s not my boyfriend. We’re not dating. We went on one date last night. That’s it. I barely know him.”

It was clear to even himself that his defense was far too strenuous and was the definition of protesting too much. They were both staring at him - annoyingly Dr. Stuhlbarg looked amused and Armie irritated and embarrassed.

“Well, I hate to seem forward,” Dr. Stuhlbarg put his hands behind his back, “but were you two intimate last night?”

Armie immediately started sputtering and Timmy narrowed his eyes as he took a step toward the doctor.

“ _Seem_ forward? You are way over the line. It’s none of your fucking business.”

The doctor had the good sense to seem apologetic and held his hands up.

“I do sincerely apologize for having to ask the question, but…” He let out a long sigh. “I should start over. You two threw me off earlier. I’m here, Mr. Hammer because you were on Flight 397 from Dallas to New York three days ago and a fellow passenger has tested positive for COVID-19.”

All the color drained from Armie’s face and Timmy instantly felt sympathetic.

“The passenger seated next to you,” the doctor added.

Armie’s mouth fell open and he put his face in his hands before obviously thinking better of it and slowly looking up.

“He coughed a few times. And,” he squeezed his eyes shut, “he asked to borrow a pen and I gave it to him. Our hands brushed briefly, but I used hand sanitizer right after that but...you’re saying I have the virus.” His words tumbled out of him.

“No,” Dr. Stuhlbarg waved his hands. “I’m not saying that, but since you were seated next to him for such an extended period and he, especially because he coughed around you, chances of you having contracted it are higher than normal. Because of that you - and anyone you’ve had close contact in the last few days - will have to quarantine or shelter in place.”

The sound of Armie’s breathing was starting to increase and there was a slight sheen of sweat collecting on his forehead. A part of Timmy wanted to reach out to him but wasn’t sure it was his place or that his comfort would be appreciated.

It took him a few seconds to realize Dr. Stuhlbarg was staring at him.

“What?” His gaze briefly traveled to him before he turned his attention back to Armie. 

“I have to ask again if you two have been intimate?”

“Ugh, if you’re asking if we had sex, the answer is no. It was our first date,” he explained.

“People do sleep together on the first date.” Timmy was sure he must have imagined a snarky tone.

“You don’t say.” His sarcasm was sprinkled with more than a little bitterness. “I realize that’s an assumption some people make.” He glanced pointedly at Armie who still looked shell-shocked from the doctor’s news. “There’s nothing wrong with doing that, but I generally don’t go that far on a first date.”

That was mostly true. There were a few desperate times he hooked up with people on a one-off, but on actual dates - that he thought might go somewhere - he didn’t cross that line on a first date. It might not have seemed like much of a distinction but it mattered to him. It was one reason he was so freaked he almost tossed out that rule for Armie.

“You didn’t have any type of physical contact?” Dr. Stuhlbarg seemed skeptical for some reason. 

“We held hands for like a minute,” Armie finally piped up in a thin voice.

“Probably less than a minute,” he clarified right away.

“Well, I’m sorry but given you were in close proximity for-I assume-at least a couple of hours and you held hands, I’m going to have to ask Mr….” He trailed off waiting for Timmy to help him out.

He blinked at him for a second. “Uh...Timmy...Chalamet.”

“Mr. Chalamet, I’m going to have to ask you to shelter in place here,” Dr. Stuhlbarg finished.

“Here?” His eyes widened and there was a tiny chance his voice may have squeaked. “You expect me to quarantine here?”

“Yes.”

This was not happening. No fucking way! He backed away slowly. After six months, he finally goes on a date and not only does it end up in disaster but now he might have caught a deadly virus! He didn’t even kiss him!

After taking a deep breath, he walked back over to them. Armie was watching him as if he was a bomb ready to go off any minute.

“How long do you expect me to stay here?” He asked as calmly as possible even though his heart was racing in his chest.

Dr. Stuhlbarg crossed his arms over his chest and seemed to steel himself for his reaction. “It could-it’s a possibility-it might take fourteen days.”

“Fourteen days?!”

Both Armie and Dr. Stuhlbarg winced.

“I said possibly fourteen days.” The doctor sighed. “It could take less time. Normally, if you haven’t started exhibiting symptoms within fourteen days, you haven’t contracted the virus. You could start displaying symptoms before fourteen days or your test results could come back negative before that time.”

“Right. A test.” His mood brightened slightly. There was some light at the end of this incredibly dark tunnel. “So give us the test now so we can get the results as soon as possible.”

While he wasn’t great with needles, he’d take every test under the sun to bring this situation to a quick end.

“Unfortunately, with our limited resources we don’t have tests for you two yet.” Dr. Stuhlbarg looked down at his feet. “We expect to have more tests in a day or two. After that, we should get the results in 3-10 days.”

“Un-fucking-believable,” Timmy muttered, gripping his hair painfully. “Limited resources. This is because of the asshole-in-chief, isn’t it?” 

While the doctor didn’t respond in the affirmative or nod, the remorseful expression on his face was confirmation enough.

“Goddamit!” 

Right now, he couldn’t even focus on that hateful idiot. He had to figure out how to get out of this somehow.

“Look, I didn’t explain this before but our date did not end well. It went so badly I didn’t want to see this-” He glanced at Armie who still looked white as a sheet as if he was barely processing this. There was no need to kick him while he was down by calling him what he really wanted to. “I didn’t want to see this person again. The only reason I’m here is that I lost something. You can’t ask me-” He stopped again when something occurred to him. “Before you said you’re _asking_ me to stay here. Asking. That means it’s voluntary, right?”

“Not really,” Dr. Stuhlbarg replied in a hesitant voice. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought words still meant what they were supposed to mean,” he spit out.

“Right now, it’s mostly voluntary but we could get a court order.”

“Fine! Get a court order.” He threw up his hands. “By the time you do, I’ll already be back in my shitty apartment.”

Instead of blowing up at him, Dr. Stuhlbarg’s tone was still patient, if a bit more insistent. 

“I don’t know how much research you’ve done on this virus - if any - but I assure you the safest place for you - or anyone you care about - is here.”

One of Timmy’s aunts was a doctor and his mother kept telling him how serious this was. He had done some research as well but had to stop after a while because it was freaking him out.

“This is a new virus, and we’re learning new things about it every day, but one thing we do know is it is highly contagious. If you have it and you just talk to someone you could pass on the disease. It’s especially harmful to those older and with a compromised immune system, but anyone could get this and need to be hospitalized. Do you want to infect someone because you refuse to share an apartment - a huge apartment by the looks of it - with someone who annoys you?”

At first, he wanted to tell him to fuck off for trivializing his feelings but then he started to think about Saoirse. She wasn’t just his best friend, but roommate as well. She was asthmatic. No matter how mad he was at her currently, he loved her to pieces and if he got her sick, he would never forgive himself.

There were also his parents and his maternal grandmother, who visited often. No way would he take chances with their lives.

“Shit.” He hung his head.

“You’re doing the right thing.” Dr. Stuhlbarg gave him a dorky thumbs up. “Here’s my card.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small white card.

Armie reached for it with shaking hands.

“If you start having any symptoms, you can call me. If either of you has difficulty breathing, consistent pain in your chest, or your lips or face start to turn blue you need to call the paramedics.”

“Oh, my God,” Armie mumbled, stepping back while raking his hand through his hair.

The doctor stepped forward. “I know it’s easy for me to say this, but please try not to panic. Neither of you may be infected.” He looked between the two of them. “I promise I will contact you when we have tests for you.”

As he took a step back, Timmy realized something. “Wait, I don’t have any of my stuff.”

“Do you have your cellphone?”

He took it out.

“You can call a friend to get anything you need and they can take it to the health department. They’ll bring it over. Also, if you run out of any food you can call the health department as well.”

The obvious person to call would be Saoirse. He guessed he would have to stop giving her the cold shoulder now. He knows she’ll freak out when she finds out what’s going on. He had to suppress an eye roll when he realized she would probably call this destiny or something equally gross.

“I’m sorry if I sounded flippant before.” Dr. Stuhlbarg sounded genuinely remorseful as his kind eyes stared up at the both of them. “I realize this is a difficult and strange situation. I’m very sorry for the inconvenience. The only thing I’ll add is if you truly don’t get along keep to your separate corners as much as possible. Keep yourselves occupied or…” He grinned. “You could be adults and work out your problems.” 

His tone was light enough that Timmy miraculously didn’t want to strangle him.

“As I said before, gentlemen, I’ll be in touch.” With another grin and a brief nod, the doctor departed.

It surprised Timmy that he didn’t immediately meltdown after he left. He didn’t want to do that in front of Armie, especially since Armie was doing enough freaking out for the both of them, even if it was mostly internal panic. 

Sparing a glance at him, it seemed like Armie had calmed down. Timmy shook his head and let out a slight chuckle.

“Unbelievable, right?” He scrubbed his hands down his face. “You know neither me nor the good doctor even bothered to ask you for your permission, this being your place after all. Do you think I should stay here?”

Armie stared into the distance for a few moments before turning around. “You hate me. You don’t care what I think. Stay. Don’t stay. I don’t care.” He ran upstairs.

“Wow. What a goddamn jerk!” He gritted his teeth. “I can’t fucking stay here.” He turned and gripped the doorknob.

Before he could twist it, his parents, his grandmother, and Saoirse’s faces flashed before his eyes.

His hand slid down. A huge knot was forming in his stomach and racked his brain for another solution, but in the end, there was simply no other choice but to tough this out. 

“Get ready for the longest two weeks of your life.” His head fell against the door and he softly banged his head against it a couple of times.

Let the nightmare begin.


	2. Assumption Junction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armie reflects on heartbreak from the past while dealing with the ramifications of his date with Timmy - a date that started off a little rocky but took a nice turn. What happened in the middle of their date doesn't matter as much as how it ended, at least not to Timmy, who finds out some interesting information about Armie's family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone had a lovely holiday (or happy Friday if you don't celebrate any holiday!)
> 
> One of my Christmas presents to myself was finishing this chapter! Hope you like it! It's very long but I can't seem to get away from those really long chapters. 🤷🏾♀️😀
> 
> Thanks to those who read the first chapter and especially to those who commented!
> 
> WARNING - Chapter contains talk of panic attacks (and how the character feels about them) as well as some internalized homophobia and homophobic behavior

Armie held his head in his hands and tried to control his rapid breathing. The room was starting to spin and he leaned over and clutched his stomach as his breakfast started to churn in his stomach.

What a time to have a panic attack.

Finding out you might have a deadly virus was an appropriate time to panic, but doing it in front of Timmy - his ridiculously beautiful, but failed blind date - was less than ideal. Timmy’s opinion of him was already low. He didn’t want him to think he was an anxious freak on top of that.

Not that he helped his situation with him by being so terse just now. The combination of his fear and a little annoyance at Timmy made it hard for him to think straight. It wasn’t his intention to make it seem like being with him was the worst ordeal imaginable. 

Yeah, their date ended badly but it wasn’t _all_ bad. 

When he got to New York, dating had not been part of the plan - at least not right away. He had to get his life together first. 

At 25-years-old, this was the first time he had lived on his own. It hadn’t exactly been his choice - which seemed to be a theme in his life. 

He had been a dutifully obedient son to his ultra-conservative Christian mother. She had controlled every aspect of his life, and he had gone along with it because he didn’t know any better. 

It wasn’t until his late teens that he ever saw anyone really stand up to her. His dad Michael had walked away a few years ago. As much as the separation hurt him and his brother, Armie was proud of his dad not being willing to just go along with her every whim - to say “no more.” At the time, he didn’t think he’d ever be strong enough to do it, but it gave him hope.

Then again, it was a lot easier for his dad, not only was he not dependent on her financially, but he didn’t need her love - that wasn’t the case for Armie at all. As much as his mother drove him crazy, just the thought of her hating him made him want to start crying and never stop.

Her turning on him wasn’t some irrational fear. Despite all of her talk about a loving God and her preaching about loving all of God’s creatures, it didn’t apply to sinners. In his mother’s eyes, being gay was the ultimate sin - even more than being a murderer or rapist.

It seemed to Armie that she was aware he was gay before he did, though he wasn't sure how. Maybe she was right and knew him better than he knew himself. The number of times she would sermonize to him about the evils of homosexuality seemed excessive. 

Anytime Armie managed to make a male friend, she watched them like a hawk and made comments that made both of them uncomfortable. They were never allowed to go up to his room. By the time he was twelve, he learned to never invite a friend over - the few friends he made.

Perhaps it was just a coincidence that it was around this time he realized that maybe his thoughts about boys weren’t so pure. Boys in his class were excited about asking girls to a spring dance, but Armie didn’t care much about the dance. When he thought about who he wanted to spend time with there, he could only think of his friend, Justin Theroux.

The thought caused him to panic. He tried to convince himself it was because Justin was so funny and enjoyed hanging out with him, but it didn’t quell his niggling doubts.

It made him sick - physically sick - to think he could feel that way about boys. The thought he could be a monster, especially in his mother’s eyes, he couldn’t handle it. Until he arrived at high school, he barely talked to another boy again.

While he had mostly been successful at keeping his “monstrous” feelings at bay, it changed in high school - especially when he met Henry Cavill.

On his first day of ninth grade, when he saw Henry walking - practically floating on air - in his direction, he was instantly smitten. They were supposed to be the same age, but Henry looked different. He looked like a man. His body alone - he was built like an ox, though his attraction was about so much more than that. He was the whole package - handsome, strong, kind, funny, and smart.

Despite his incredible physique, Henry wasn’t a jock. He was captain of the debate team and the chess club and created a club for sci-fi movie lovers called Movie Geeks. With his love of superhero movies and other types of sci-fi, he had thought about joining that club but was too nervous. 

You could have knocked him over with a feather when Henry approached him instead. He was eating in the library when Henry plopped down in front of him and struck up a conversation. It was more of a one-sided conversation until Henry brought up _Doctor Who_ and they ended up having an animated discussion about who was their favorite companions (for Armie, it was Rory and Henry’s favorite was Donna.) 

Even though he desperately wanted to ask for Henry’s number - just as friends - he was too shy. Henry didn’t offer it but did sit with him every day that week. By the end of the week, Henry invited him to join the movie club, and he happily accepted.

Knowing the club would be a hard sell to his mother, he lied and said it was a book club. To add to the lie, he also told her the club members were mostly girls. There were only three girls in the movie club versus eight boys. 

As much as he felt guilty for lying, the feeling dissipated the more fun he had with the group. It was an experience that opened him up in a lot of ways. While it might have seemed like just a movie club, the movies they watched led to discussions about things like race, religion, politics, sex that he never imagined having. 

Still, the best thing about the club was Henry. It amazed him how close they became in such a short time. By the end of the first month, Armie was the de facto Vice President of Movie Geeks.

While Armie liked many of the other members, he still felt shy around most of them - but not Henry. He got him to loosen up in a way no one ever had. The first time he ever laughed so hard that juice came out of his nose was when Henry gave a very racy impression of Superman’s reaction after having sex with Lois Lane for the first time.

The fact he got butterflies every time he was near Henry was something he tried not to focus on. 

It didn’t escape his attention that Henry touched him quite a bit - a shoulder rub, an “accidental” graze of the knee, a hand that lingered on his lower back. He chalked it up to Henry just being a touchy-feely person.

Yes, Henry didn’t have a girlfriend and barely looked at the girls - the considerable number of them - who were frequently staring at him or openly flirting with him. Whenever they were together, Henry was focused on him only, always wanting him by his side, but that didn’t mean anything - until it did.

So he could spend time at Henry’s place, he claimed to be tutoring a female student. Over the year, Armie had gotten more adept at lying to his mother. His mother was never what you would call naive, but she’d had him under her thumb for so long, he was sure it never occurred to her he could lie to her - at least not in such a convincing way.

When he was at Henry’s they listened to music, read comic books, played videogames - spent one amazing afternoon exploring Henry’s dad’s comic book collection. Mostly, they watched movies.

One day after school in May - about a month before the end of the school year - they were watching _Spider-Man 2._ When MJ got engaged right in front of Peter, Armie - to his embarrassment - started to cry. Looking down, he tried to discreetly wipe away a tear. When he heard Henry lightly chuckle, he knew he was busted.

“I’m such a dork.” Putting his face in his hands, he shook his head. 

Gently, Henry pried his hands away from his face. “Yes, you are but I think it's really sweet.”

There was something so deep and sexy about the way his voice sounded that he immediately looked up and stared into his eyes. All of the oxygen got sucked out of his body - out of the room, out of the planet - when he saw the intense way Henry was gazing at him.

“Adorable.” Henry’s hand hovered before he gripped his thigh.

If he wasn’t so paralyzed, he would have swallowed his tongue.

When Henry leaned forward, he went so slowly he would have been able to stop it if he wanted to, but he was so sure he was hallucinating, and there was nothing to stop. Henry wasn’t going to kiss him. It wasn’t possible.

But then his soft - _oh, God they were so soft_ \- lips were gently brushing against his. It was brief, though Armie had no idea how brief before he finally opened his eyes again and saw a nervous-looking Henry staring back at him. His expression was still soft, but his smile seemed shaky. He looked like he was preparing for him to bolt.

If he was thinking normal, it's what he would have done - jumped right off that bed and out of the room, but his brain was not processing anything. When he was able to put his thoughts together, he kept repeating in his head, _I’m not gay._

“What are you thinking?” Henry whispered.

“I’m…” He swallowed, and his breathing quickened. “I’m not…”

Henry touched his cheek, which somehow got his breathing under control.

“Do you want me to do it again?”

His heart was in his throat, and his voice wasn’t working, so he just nodded.

This time when Henry kissed him, after a few seconds he thoroughly reciprocated the kiss with a ferocity he didn’t know he was capable of.

Though he didn’t check his watch, he was pretty sure they made out for over thirty minutes, only taking breaks for air. During those breaks, they started giggling uncontrollably, would then stare at each other, and dive back in.

The furthest it went was when Henry timidly started kissing his neck. He stopped as soon as Armie let out a loud laugh. It caught him off guard, but he assured Henry it was just a surprisingly ticklish spot. Still, Henry steered clear of his neck after that.

When it was time for Armie to leave, they didn’t speak about what happened. He just discreetly adjusted himself after Henry walked him to the door. After nodding at each other, he gave him a short wave - kicking himself inwardly - and left.

The next day things were very stilted between them at school. It wasn’t until close to the end of the day when Henry asked if he still wanted to go to his house after school that they said more than three words to each other.

A part of Armie wanted to say no. As much as he desperately wanted to spend time with him - maybe kiss him again - more than that he wanted to heal any potential damage to their friendship. But he was afraid of what would happen. 

Would Henry want to act like it never happened? Would he say it was the worst mistake ever - that Armie was a horrible kisser? Would he end their friendship?

But with the way Henry was looking at him, he knew he couldn’t say no. Once they got back to Henry’s, and up to his room, they stood around awkwardly until Henry cleared his throat and sat on his bed. 

“I promise I won’t touch you unless you say it’s okay.” He shyly smiled up at him.

After Armie sat down - closer than he expected - Henry didn’t waste any time.

“Maybe you’ve figured it out already, but I just needed to say it out loud, especially to you. I’m gay.”

Given what happened the day before, it shouldn’t have felt like such a shock, but his words still knocked him off balance. He was bowled over by Henry’s courage and the certainty that he would never have the same kind of courage.

“I’ve known since I was twelve.” It sounded like he was certain, but there was still tension in his voice. “You’re the first boy I’ve felt this way about - not just someone I wanted to kiss, but someone that I want to know me.”

It was so flattering, and Armie inched his hand closer to his. This weird feeling of pride washed over him. A sense of pride and awe that he was trusting him.

“I feel like, after this year, I’m finally ready to be out completely...to everyone,” Henry explained. 

His eyes widened. This was such a huge step, and he wasn’t sure what Henry wanted him to say.

“Armie, I’m not sure what your situation is.” He swallowed. “I think you’re into me, and I am _definitely_ into you. I don’t know if you were just experimenting yesterday or if you’re gay or something else. You don’t have to figure that out if you’re not ready but…” He put his hand on Armie’s knee. “I want to be with you...even if it has to be in secret.”

His mind had gone blank, and he wasn’t sure if he could find words with a blinding light. Closing his eyes, he tried to slow everything down. He could barely remember his name right now, let alone figure out his sexuality and what he wanted to do about it. 

All of this felt so sudden.

When he opened his eyes, and Henry smiled at him, this feeling he couldn’t quite name washed over him. Henry was generally a very positive person. He usually had a genuine smile for everyone, but there was something different about his smile now. Something more open in his eyes as if a weight had been lifted.

Armie wanted that.

He was so tired of being scared and confused all of the time and just wanted to be free. If admitting the truth - at least to himself - was the way to do it, he wanted to.

“Armie.”

Coming out of his reverie, he blinked up at Henry.

“You haven’t said anything for five minutes.”

Rubbing his neck, he chuckled and picked at a spot on his jeans. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Henry grinned.

“I don’t know what I am.” He chewed on his bottom lip. “If you could hear the noise inside my head right now, you’d probably think I was a freak.”

“No way.” He gripped Armie’s chin and forced him to face him.

“I don’t know how you do that.” He sucked in a breath. 

“Do what?” Henry’s brow furrowed.

“When you…” He trailed off as he stared down at his lap, not sure he could say this while staring into Henry’s eyes. “When you touch me this…” He touched his head. “...Quiets down but this…” He touched his chest. When he faced Henry again, he couldn’t finish his thought, hoping that Henry figured it out, then he sighed. “Can you just keep kissing me?”

As nervous as he was to say it and wait for Henry’s response, it ended up worth it. Henry’s resulting smile was dazzling.

Without saying another word, he kissed him, leaving Armie breathless. He wasn’t sure he could get used to the feeling, but he wanted to. For the next month, he got so many chances to. They continued to see each other every chance they could - and made out all the time. Armie wasn’t sure he got used to it, but he enjoyed it.

Every time Henry touched him, he felt blissful. It was the happiest month of his life, and he wanted things to stay just as they were.

But of course, life didn’t work out that way.

Though he was always petrified of his mother finding out what was going on, it kind of made things more exciting. He learned to live with this fear the way he had his whole life. At least now, he was getting to enjoy himself at the same time.

Still, he did wonder what would happen when Henry came out. He didn’t ask Henry to put off coming out publicly, but, since he was aware of the risks - especially to his new relationship with Armie - he decided to hold off. 

It didn’t take long for Henry to become impatient. They stopped spending every day together. His usually non-existent temper was very easy to set off. Even worse, his constant smiles were gone, and his eyes were starting to get the same sad look Armie recognized in the mirror.

Despite knowing the complications, he convinced Henry to officially come out. 

That was the beginning of the end. An ending that came sooner than he ever could have anticipated.

Henry came out with a message in the yearbook. It didn’t take long for the news to spread all over the school. Knowing Dru would hear about it, he had been prepared to tell her as soon as she got home. Unusually for her, she was an hour late that day. When she got home, before he could say a word about Henry, Dru announced that she knew.

It knocked him for a loop, and everything he prepared to say flew out of his head. Unnerving him even more, Dru didn’t say anything more about it. She didn’t curse Henry’s name or declare that she would pray for his soul. Even weirder, she didn’t tell Armie he couldn’t associate with him anymore.

All weekend his mom kept him busy with church business or busy work at home, and he barely got to talk to Henry except for a brief text Saturday night.

When Henry was unexpectedly absent from school on Monday, he was worried. In school, Henry’s coming out was all anyone could talk about for the first couple of days. Outwardly most students were supportive, though more than a few homophobic comments made it around. 

The thought occurred to him that maybe Henry skipped school to avoid the talk and the looks, but that didn’t seem like Henry. He wouldn’t hide because of gossip and, even if he did, he would have at least contacted him.

By mid-week, Henry was still AWOL and didn’t return his calls or messages. Armie didn’t truly begin to spiral until he discovered Henry’s number was disconnected.

If something had happened to Henry because he came out, he didn’t know how he could deal with that. But if something terrible happened he was sure he would have heard about it by then.

Maybe Henry regretted his admission and hated him now.

His mind reeled with every possibility, and he felt sicker and sicker. There was no relief for his anxiety until he got a call from an unknown number that Friday. Most of the time, he didn’t answer those types of calls, but he had a feeling who it might be from.

When he heard Henry’s voice, the relief was instantaneous and more than he’d ever felt - until he recognized the strain in his voice.

“I’m sorry I haven’t called sooner. There’s been a lot going on and, um, I’m not supposed to talk to you,” he whispered.

“What do you mean you’re not supposed to talk to me?” Armie shot up in bed.

“It’s one of the strings attached to my father’s new job.” Henry let out a heavy sigh. “It’s supposedly a ‘great opportunity.’”

None of this was connecting in his brain. Henry’s dad suddenly has a new job, and for some reason, it means Henry can’t speak to him. Along with his confusion, he was unnerved. Henry sounded more hollow and bitter than he’d ever heard him. 

“I don’t understand - what does your father’s job have to do with me?” He rubbed his forehead slowly. 

“It’s because of your dad.”

“My-my dad? What? He sputtered.

“Your father is on the board of a company that works with my dad’s law firm. The company’s expanding their business, and they need new lead counsel. Your dad recommended mine for the job. It’s more pay, more responsibility. One condition before he could take the job is I had to cut off all contact with you.”

If asked to pinpoint one particular emotion, he couldn’t do it. He was confused, surprised, angry...He would have expected something like this from his mom but...his dad. When he thought about it some more, a clear answer came to him. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

This was his mother’s doing. It’s why she was so calm after Henry came out. A part of him wondered if he should be grateful she didn’t do something worse.

“I’m...sorry?” He ran his hands through his hair roughly.

“My dad said I could tell him not to take the job, but I got the feeling if he didn’t agree to take a new position, his old one would be in jeopardy as well.” Henry took a deep breath. “I couldn’t be the reason my dad loses his job.”

Of course, he couldn’t. The type of person he was, he knew that would have eaten away at him. He was envious that Henry’s dad not only gave him a choice but seemed to be willing to make that sacrifice for Henry if his answer had been different.

“I suppose it could have been worse. My father gets a raise, and we get to enjoy British culture,” Henry continued. 

“British culture?” Please, this couldn’t mean...

“Yeah.” He swallowed. “The job is in London. That’s something else I haven’t gotten a chance to talk to you about. Too much packing to do. His job starts on Monday, and we leave tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” His breath came out in a whoosh. It felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach.

“Yeah.” Henry’s voice was thick with emotion.

“Does this mean I don’t get to see you again?” Tears started to blur his vision.

“I’m sorry...no.” Henry sniffled. “I’m lucky I even got a chance to make this call.” He paused for a long time. “I’m trying to look on the bright side here. I don’t have to go back into the closet, and if I face anyone like your mother, they’ll be very polite and have a British accent.” There was a desperation to his laugh. “Maybe I’ll develop an accent, too.” 

Armie knew he was trying to make this easier for him. He wanted to try and reciprocate his laugh, but he thought he would choke on it.

This was wrong. He needed to do something, but, ultimately, he was powerless. His anger warred with his terrible sadness. He was so mad at himself, his father, and especially his mother.

“Armie, it’s okay.”

“It’s not,” he cried and shook his head. “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have told you to come out.”

“It was my idea. I wanted to. I don’t regret it. Even though I’m…” His voice cracked. “I’m going to fucking miss you.”

He had to swallow several times for his throat to clear and for him to be able to speak. “Me, too.”

“I know you’re scared, Armie - of so much - but I think you’re braver than you think you are. When you figure out everything and finally stand up to your mother...I wish I could be there to see it.”

Blinking back tears, he gripped the sides of the sink as Henry’s words repeated in his head. It was probably not a good idea for him to be thinking about this right now when he was supposed to be calming down.

For so long, he wanted to believe what Henry said about him, but he felt ashamed it took him almost ten years to finally stand up to Dru. It hurt even more that he had been right all along that it was so easy for her to turn her back on him. It shouldn’t matter - he shouldn’t want a person so intolerant in his life - but that reasoning didn’t make it hurt any less.

When he finally came out to her, it was the proudest - and scariest - thing he’d done in his life. No matter how much she demanded he take it back, he refused to back down. There was no going back for him. While he certainly didn’t have everything figured out, he knew he was gay. It was a part of who he was - a part he was ready to finally embrace.

There were many times throughout the years he thought of Henry - especially when he confronted his mother. Back then, he didn’t know what he had felt for him, but he realized he loved him. Henry was his first love, though he wasn’t his last.

Trying to put aside his past pain, he tried to concentrate on his breathing as his heartrate started to normalize. This wasn’t his first panic attack, though it was his first in months - since his mother’s banishment. 

After he tried his breathing technique for a few minutes, it worked, and he had calmed down. Splashing water on his face, he realized he should get back out there before Timmy started to wonder - if he was still there.

He dried his face with a towel, took one more deep breath, and opened the door. It didn’t take long for him to figure out if Timmy was still there. As soon as he walked toward the kitchen, he heard his voice.

“I shouldn’t need to remind you that this is all your fault - but I will. Just please get there as soon as you can. Call me back, please.” 

When he walked past the kitchen, he saw Timmy seated on the white couch in the living room. His phone was clutched close to his chest as he stared out the window. It was almost a relief to see him there. While he looked a bit distressed, and Armie knew they needed to mend fences, he would rather not be going through this alone, especially since he did like Timmy.

His focus drifted lower, and he saw Timmy’s sneaker on his ottoman. His eyes narrowed. “Just let it go. Just let it go. Just let it go,” he muttered to himself.

Next, Timmy shifted his feet, and his shoes dragged a little on top of it. When he thought he spotted mud on his shoe, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“Would you mind not putting your feet on the ottoman? In fact, you should probably just take your shoes off. You can put -”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Timmy glared at him as he sat up, his feet still on the ottoman. “You rudely leave me here - after I find out you may have infected me with a deadly virus and I may have to bunk with a stranger for two weeks - and the first thing you say to me is about keeping my feet off the fucking furniture?”

Armie knew he should just apologize, but it appeared he just adored the taste of his feet when he was around Timmy.

“I just spent a long time picking it out and…” He looked away and chewed on his lip. “I like things clean.”

As much as he wanted to be nothing like his mother, her neat freak ways had rubbed off on him, and he hadn’t been able to shake it. It was just one of the many reasons he was in therapy. One thing in therapy he realized was that he’d turned into a bit of a control freak thanks to how he never had any all of his life.

“Yeah, I can tell.” Timmy finally took his feet off the ottoman and stood up. He glanced around. “It feels like a museum in here, including being cold as fuck.”

“You should be glad I’m so anal.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Given the nature of this virus, being overly clean isn’t such a bad thing.”

“True.” Timmy nodded, and then a smirk spread over his face. “Anal. Interesting choice of words.”

Instantly, his eyes widened, and he was sure his face was fire-engine red. 

After a beat, he walked across the room and sat in the armchair. When he looked up, Timmy was back on the couch with that annoying/sexy smirk still on his face.

“I really should apologize for leaving so abruptly before." He sighed. "I was just so freaked out over what the doctor said, but you’re the last person I should yell at. I got you into this mess.” 

“Look,” Timmy bowed his head and rubbed the back of his neck, “despite what I just said, this isn’t on you. I can blame you for a lot, but not this.”

Armie glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. He looked and sounded sincere.

“You got on a plane like a million other people, and you gave a guy a pen. You were trying to be nice. How would you know something like this was going to happen?”

“Thank you.” He briefly gazed at Timmy before he stared down at his feet.

“No problem.” He chewed on his bottom lip. “I know I’ve been a bit...prickly...but if I’m going to be stuck here for two weeks, we should try to get along.”

“You’ve decided to stay?” He tried to keep the excitement out of his voice.

“Yeah.” Despite his protestations from before, he seemed at peace with this decision. “It might not be your fault I potentially got this, but if I left here and someone I loved got sick, it would be my fault.”

That sounded like the sweet, caring guy Saoirse talked about and that he met a few times on their date.

“As Dr. Stuhlbarg said, I think you’re doing the right thing. I know that might not mean much coming from me, but…” He trailed off with an awkward shrug. “So, I heard you talking to someone when I walked in.” Armie cleared his throat. “Was that Saoirse?”

“Yeah. She didn’t pick up, so I left a voicemail. I briefly told her about what’s going on and what Dr. Stuhlbarg said about needing someone to get my stuff and bring it to the health department. I’m sure she’ll call back soon.” Timmy shook his head before chuckling. “When she hears about this she is going to _flip out_.”

“That’s an understatement.” He grinned. “After she gets over the shock, you know what she’s going to say, right? That this is -”

“Destiny,” they said in unison.

Armie’s friendship with Saoirse - like many things currently in his life - wasn’t planned. 

As much as he was trying to start over and expand his horizons when he got to New York, he kept to himself. Most of his time was spent looking for work. Since he never had a job before, he struggled to find work. His father offered to pull strings and help him land something, but he turned him down. The “allowance” his dad was giving him was more than enough.

Michael felt guilty for enabling Dru’s behavior and not being more helpful when he was growing up. His solution was throwing more money at the problem. It didn’t solve the underlying issues between them, but Armie was glad he was trying and accepted the help. Also, while he had a lot of pride, he didn’t want to be homeless, so he had no choice but to accept some of his father’s assistance. If he was going to be independent, he felt he needed to do some things for himself, like finding a job.

While he got a few unsolicited modeling offers, he turned them down. After a couple of weeks, he got an entry-level position as an advertising sales agent for a travel magazine. He was almost positive the woman interviewing him - Evelyn - had a crush on him, but since he couldn’t prove it, he had no trouble taking the job. 

On his first day, he didn’t meet his cubicle mate because she was late. He certainly heard her when she came in. She was cursing a blue streak about some asshole who followed her all morning and stole the last muffin she wanted, stole her cab, and didn’t hold the elevator for her. 

It was hard to ignore her since she was so loud, but he tried to pay attention to the agent, Jason Ferguson, who was trying to train him. Unfortunately, Mr. Ferguson - who made sure to constantly let him know he’d been doing the job for ten years - wasn’t very patient and seemed to resent having to spare a second of his precious time training an “unqualified newbie.”

After the fifth time Jason ignored one of his questions, a dejected Armie sat back and gasped a second later when Saoirse’s head suddenly popped over the top of his cubicle. He clutched at his chest for a few moments. Her broad smile was welcoming and she was so friendly - especially compared to Mr. Ferguson. He tried to be polite when she introduced herself but was distracted trying to pay attention to the call Mr. Ferguson was on.

Though they didn’t speak for the next couple of hours, Saoirse was not deterred from striking up a friendship. On his lunch break, he decided to walk to a local coffee shop. Saoirse gave him his second fright of the day when she slapped him on the back when she popped up beside him.

“I’m so sorry;” she replied, though she couldn’t stop giggling. “I didn’t know a man so big could make a sound...like that.”

He blushed and shuffled on his feet.

“But I meant it, I am sorry - for surprising you, and I guess ‘stalking’ you.” She chuckled. “I just thought we should get to know each other better since I’ll be training you from now on.”

“ _You’ll_ be training me?” He blinked at her. 

She nodded. “Well, I could see that you weren’t entirely comfortable with Jason - not many people are. It’s also going to be helpful to Jason as well. This way he’ll have more time to spend trying to get the stick out of his ass.”

An undignified and embarrassing snort erupted from Armie. 

Over the next half an hour, they sat down for lunch and she seemed to unload her whole life story with no filter - sharing details about her love life, her parents’ divorce, her political views. It was a little overwhelming, but entertaining.

It wasn’t that she tried to dominate the conversation entirely. She asked Armie questions, tried to get his opinion on things. He mostly stuck to one-word responses. As their break was wrapping up, she sat back and watched him with a wry grin.

“You’re going to make this difficult, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry.” He glanced down at the table and stroked his chin with a nervous chuckle. “I don’t mean -”

“It’s okay.” She waved off his apology. “You’re quiet. You have every right to be. _But_...” She leaned forward. “I have a feeling we are going to be great friends.”

A slow smile spread over his face. “You think so.”

“I do.” She nodded. “You seem very sweet.”

“I’ve barely said five words to you.”

“I know. Your one-word answers have been sweet and informative. Plus, I just have a sense about people.” She took a sip of her latte. “I’m a good judge of character - well unless I’m dating that person and then my radar is very off. I don’t know why.” Her gaze shifted and she took a small sip of her iced coffee. “But I don’t think that’s going to be a problem for us - dating, I mean.”

Though she didn’t look into his eyes, he could see a knowing look on her face. He didn’t know how she could know he was gay. Later on, he asked how she knew. At first, she claimed it was witchcraft before she confessed that on their walk to the coffee shop he checked out the ass of every man who walked past them (“An ass man - a man after my own heart.”)

Saoirse was right - something she was a scary amount of the time - and they did become great friends. Despite the two being complete opposites, he felt drawn to her. So much about her - including how she followed him that first day - reminded him of Henry. Her energy, her humor, her bravery. 

She was his first female friend - and the first friend he didn’t have incredibly impure thoughts about.

When he confirmed he was gay and how his mother turned on him, she cried for an hour before calling his mother every name in the book and saying Dru was lucky she wasn’t an actual witch. She offered to loan him her mother whenever he needed any motherly wisdom.

After that, she became even more determined to help him in any way she could. One of her ways of helping was dragging him to her acting class. It was a passion of hers, and she insisted that not only would Armie enjoy it, but that he would be great at it. While he wouldn’t say he was great, she was right. He did enjoy acting, a lot more than he had anticipated.

It also seemed like she was on a mission to find him a partner - or at least get him laid, especially after he made the mistake of telling her he was essentially a virgin. Technically, he’d lost his virginity on his 21st birthday. He was sad and drunk and stupidly decided that being an adult now meant he had to put aside the silly notion of being gay. The best way to do that was to have sex with a girl.

There was one particular girl in his Literature and Psychology study group, Alicia Vikander, who made it very clear she was into him. He’d ignored her advances all year but called her up that night. Two hours later, Armie lay in bed next to her - unsatisfied and with no doubts about his sexuality. 

But he’d never slept with a man, despite having an amazing opportunity later. 

Even though he was sexually frustrated, he wasn’t sure if he was built for casual hook-ups. Talking about sex was uncomfortable for him, and he thought his ideas about sex were too traditional. Saoirse insisted there was nothing wrong with getting your needs met.

A few days later, she told him her actor friend Timothée would be perfect for him. It wasn’t the first time she’d mentioned Timothée, or Timmy, as she referred to him affectionately. He knew he was one of her best friends. She always said they should meet, but it was the first time she suggested they date.

A skeptical Armie kept coming up with reasons it was unnecessary to set them up, but then Saoirse pulled out her phone - even though they were supposed to be working - and stuck her phone in his face while he was on a call. His protestation died on his lips. All thoughts flew from his brain. He slowly reached out and took the phone from her. Someone’s voice echoed in his ear, but he couldn’t make out the words. All he could focus on was the image in front of him.

It wasn’t at all hyperbole to say he was the most stunning person he’d ever seen. It wasn’t a headshot, or a glamour shot, at all. Timmy had his arm around Saoirse. He was wearing a purple sued jacket. Chocolate brown curls were framing his face. The smile on his face - it lit up his whole face in such a way he didn’t know how the person taking the picture wasn’t blinded.

After coming back down to Earth and swallowing some drool, he convinced himself it was just a fluke. He couldn’t possibly look like that in every picture, but, later at lunch, Saoirse showed him picture after picture. His beauty didn’t diminish even with pics of her and Timmy making funny faces.

Even though he wasn’t sure he could meet Timmy without blushing and giggling like an idiot - even though he wasn’t sure if he could be good enough to date someone like Timmy - he knew he had to meet him. He felt a little shallow for being so obsessed with his looks, but ultimately, he didn’t care. This was more than likely supposed to just be a casual thing, so why shouldn’t he focus on the physical?

After getting Timmy’s permission, Saoirse gave Armie his number and vice versa. He was far too nervous to reach out to him first, so he was incredibly grateful when Timmy texted him. They didn’t chat much. Timmy said he was busy with work but was looking forward to meeting him finally.

“Can’t wait to see if you’re as perfect as Sersh says you are.” Followed by those familiar three dots and then a second text. “Every inch of you.” 

The blush on his cheeks after that stayed for quite a while.

After he was done flirting, Timmy suggested they meet the next night at a restaurant called Craft. He didn’t know much about the place but didn’t have any other suggestions, so they agreed to meet at 7:00.

It was a somewhat upscale restaurant, though not too fancy. He was relieved since he might have been slightly overdressed. He had decided to wear a suit - a navy blue jacket, a black button-down shirt, but no tie, at least. 

Even though they were supposed to meet at 7, he arrived a half-hour early. For him, that was practically late since he was always ridiculously early.

Before Timmy got there, he sat at the bar and guzzled two glasses of water though he knew he should pace himself since he didn’t want to spend the entire date in the bathroom. He tried to caution himself on calling it a date since this was just supposed to be casual. 

The bartender arrived and asked him if he wanted anything else. Before he could answer, he glanced over his shoulder and spotted Timmy. His feet and brain stopped communicating, and he almost tripped as he stumbled out of his seat. He thought he had been nervous before, but it was like a swarm of butterflies had exploded like a bomb in his stomach.

When Timmy noticed him, he smiled, and he thought his knees would buckle. His hands felt clammy, and he wiped them down his black slacks. 

Timmy made his way over and now stood in front of him. He didn’t know if he could move.

“Hey.” Timmy’s grin fell a little, and he looked a bit nervous.

“He-” His voice cracked, and he felt like a shy, lame, awkward teenager. He tried to recover. “Hi. Hey.” Not the greatest save, but Timmy smiled sweetly at him, and that had him feeling better. He held out his hand. 

“So formal.” Timmy shook his hand as his grin grew.

Something passed through them so intense, he felt more exposed than if he’d been standing there stark naked. His green eyes were so beautiful, and his gaze was so intense. Armie had to force himself to look away.

For the first time, he noticed Timmy’s outfit. His look was much more laid-back than Armie’s. He was wearing white sneakers with blue socks. His blue jeans were tucked into the socks. The black t-shirt he was wearing had a design that looked like some paint was splattered on the front. He casually looked again to make sure it wasn’t painted.

Once again, he was worried he was overdressed and worried Timmy would think he was trying too hard.

Glancing behind him, he gestured to the tables. “Would you like to sit?”

“I definitely don’t want to stand all night.” Timmy chuckled.

He winced as they walked over to the hostess. What seemed hilarious in hindsight was, at the time, he hoped that would be the most awkward the night would get.

“I have to say I’m really surprised,” Timmy started as they sat down.

Instantly, his anxiety flared up, and he was worried Timmy thought he was lame, not worth the effort, and was ready to bolt.

“Sometimes pictures don’t do people justice, but not you. You look exactly like the pictures Sersh showed me.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Fucking A, it’s good.” 

Armie snorted. He briefly covered his mouth. He smoothed the back of his hair. “You look the same, too.” He glanced up. “Like exactly the same, even your clothes.”

There was a brief flash of something in Timmy’s eyes, and his smile faltered. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“No,” he answered right away. “It’s just in Saoirse’s pictures you were wearing everyday clothes, and I wasn’t expecting to see you in something like that tonight.” 

“Is there something wrong with my “everyday” clothes?” Timmy crossed his arms in front of his chest. 

“That’s not what I’m saying.” He took a sip of water and cleared his throat. “There’s nothing wrong with your clothes, I just thought for a date you would wear something different.”

“Something better?”

“Yes.” His eyes widened. “Wait, no!” Armie put his face in his hands. 

That was too loud, and now he felt like there were probably a hundred eyes on him as he bumbled like an idiot. 

“Because you’re too special to be seen with someone in clothes like this?” His jaw clenched, and his shoulders were almost up to his ears.

A familiar panic started to set in. He had to inhale deeply and let it out a couple of times before he could speak again. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so nervous, and I know I’m saying the wrong thing. There’s nothing wrong with how you look - in her pictures and right now. I’m the one overdressed. You look really, really, really good.”

As soon as he was done, Timmy’s shoulders fell, and his features softened again. There was even a slight blush on his cheeks.

“Throw in one more really, and I’ll forgive you.” He bit his bottom lip.

With the way he was looking at him, Armie would give him anything he wanted.

“Really.” He smiled.

“Okay.” Timmy uncrossed his arms.

He was still staring at Armie as if he wanted to devour him, and it was causing him to contemplate throwing the caution to the wind and suggesting they get out of there. A niggling thought in the back of his mind told him how wrong that would be, but the instant attraction he felt to Timmy was such a strong pull. 

Other than his shame and anxiety, the reason he didn’t suggest leaving was that he was hungry and wondered if Timmy was as well.

“Do you want to get something to eat?” He smoothed his hand down one of the menus.

“This place does serve food, so might as well, right?” Timmy grinned.

The conversation after that wasn’t what you would call scintillating but it was comfortable as they discussed their options. Timmy talked about craving cheese fries, and Armie told him how his brother Viktor once bet him he couldn’t eat an entire bag of them - which unbeknownst to him Viktor had doused with hot sauce. He tried to plow through it, but one combo of fries, hot sauce, and jalapenos was too strong for him, and he accidentally spat it in Viktor’s face. That caused him to choke on the milk he was drinking, which came out of his nose. 

The bowl ended up a mix of fries, regurgitated fries, and milk. It grossed him out so much he hadn't eaten them since.

By the end of the story, Timmy was cackling so hard, he was afraid he’d choke on his water. Somehow - even though it was the dorkiest sound he’d heard in his life - his loud, wheezing laugh caused Armie’s stomach to flip-flop so bad it almost hurt. 

“You probably shouldn’t tell her this, but I think Saoirse was on to something by setting us up.” His eyes traveled up to meet Armie’s.

“I think so, too.” He could feel a blush come on and was embarrassed by blushing so easily. Just the way Timmy kept his gaze sweeping up and down Armie’s body - no one had ever made him feel so desired.

To distract himself, he took a big gulp of water. “I’m surprised it’s taken so long. Saoirse talks about you constantly at work.”

“How do you get anything done?” Timmy started buttering some bread.

“I’m not sure.” He chuckled and shrugged. “She can talk your ear off all day and still exceed her sales quota for the day. She’s unbelievable.”

“She’s crazy,” Timmy replied with a wide grin.

Armie burst out laughing.

“Don’t worry. I say that to her face, and I mean it in the best way possible.”

“She’s one-of-a-kind.” Armie nodded. “I don’t think I would have got through these first few months here without her.”

While he tried not to dwell too often on what happened with his mother, sometimes he couldn’t help it, and this wave of sadness came crashing over him. He tried his hardest not to have one of those moments now.

It didn’t help that the expression on Timmy’s face seemed like one of pity. What had Saoirse told him? Maybe she told him how his mother disowned him, and he only agreed to the date because he felt sorry for him. Now he started to wonder what else she had told him. What if he knew he was practically a virgin? He must think he’s a complete loser.

Starting to feel a little dizzy, he excused himself - as politely as possible while his brain was still screaming at him - and got to the bathroom. Wiping his brow, he managed to control his breathing in a couple of minutes and quickly rejoined Timmy. 

He hoped Timmy didn’t sense any awkwardness. If he did, there was no indication of that when he returned. With a genuine grin, he picked up the conversation as if nothing happened.

“Sersh is a great friend. She’s helped me out a lot, too. She helped me get my job.”

In all the time she’s talked about Timmy, she didn’t mention his job.

“What do you do?” Armie picked up his menu.

“I’m a librarian’s assistant at the local library.”

“Really?” Armie snickered. “I would not have guessed that.” He went back to looking at his menu.

When Timmy didn’t respond, he glanced up and saw the return of Timmy’s annoyed expression.

“Why does that seem so funny?” He quirked his eyebrow up. 

After replaying what he’d said, he furrowed his brow. He didn’t think he’d said anything offensive this time but realized Timmy took his small chuckle the wrong way.

“It’s not funny, exactly. I just didn’t think of someone like you as a librarian.” All he was missing was a shovel.

“Someone like me? What does that mean?” Timmy’s posture was ramrod straight. His glare could melt the polar ice caps.

“I wasn’t implying anything bad.” He wiped his slightly damp forehead. “One of the reasons I said that is when I think of librarians, I think of little old ladies. I know that’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.” Timmy relaxed again. “I hear that all the time.” He had a shy smile on his face as he stared down at the table. “Plus, I’m not a librarian. I’m a librarian’s assistant.”

“Right. Sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “What was the other reason?”

“Other reason?”

“Yeah. You said thinking librarians were all old spinsters was one of the reasons you couldn’t see me as one. What was the other reason?”

“Well, Saoirse told me - I assume it was a joke - that you wanted to drop out of college because you ‘never wanted to look at another book as long as you freaking lived,’” He explained with a growing grin.

Timmy threw his head back and laughed. “Well, that was a joke.” He cutely scrunched up his face. “Mostly a joke. Look, I _love_ reading, but textbooks - especially about math or science - I just…” He pretended to fall asleep.

“You mean you don’t find subjects like statistics riveting?” He smirked.

Once again, Timmy fell into a fit of laughter that was so endearing and infectious, Armie couldn’t help giggling as well.

“Funny you should mention that,” he said as he wiped at his eyes. “I did a rap about statistics in high school.”

“You did not!” He responded, his mouth and eyes wide. He was hoping against hope that he really did.

“I did.” Timmy nodded. “I would offer to show it to you, but I’m trying to impress you, not humiliate myself.”

This giddy feeling bloomed inside of him. It surprised and excited him that Timmy wanted to impress him. “I doubt it would be humiliating. It would probably be adorable.”

As if proving his point, the tips of Timmy’s ears turned red. He almost melted with how adorable he looked.

“You really don’t have to try and impress me,” he added.

“Isn’t that what you try and do on a first date? Put your best foot forward?” His gaze shifted to his lap, frowning. “Not that I’ve been doing such a great job of that tonight. I’ve been a big jerk.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” He shook his head. 

There were a few awkward moments, but overall it had been great so far.

“I would.” Timmy sighed. “I didn’t mean to bite your head off about my clothes and accusing you of thinking I’m not smart enough for my job.” He chewed on his bottom lip. “I can’t help sometimes being prepared to think the worst of people. I’ve just had a lot of people look down on me. It’s hard not to let that stuff get in your head and start to think the worst of yourself.”

When he was finished, his eyes widened. He seemed as surprised by what he’d said as Armie was.

There was so much vulnerability in his words and the softness of his voice. He had the strongest urge to hurt anyone who hurt him before or to stop it from happening ever again.

Clearly still uncomfortable with what he’d shared, Timmy gulped down water. For the first time all night, he couldn’t make eye contact with Armie.

Knowing how difficult that must have been for Timmy to share, he felt like he had to reciprocate somehow. “I know what that’s like.” He cleared his throat. “People have looked down on me all my life.” 

By people, he mostly meant his mother but he wasn’t prepared to broach that subject on a first date, not if he wanted more than one date, which he absolutely did.

Timmy’s eyes widened. “Why?” The corners of his lips twitched. “How? Did they do it with a really big ladder?”

Armie snorted. Sometimes the height jokes bothered him, but surprisingly he didn’t mind it right now. He appreciated Timmy trying to lighten the moment. 

He looked down and played with the napkin in his lap as he decided to continue. “I don’t always feel as tall as I am. I’ve been made to feel really stupid and small to the point it’s taken me a long time to even trust the decisions I make for myself.”

While he wanted to reciprocate Timmy’s display of vulnerability, he hadn’t meant to say quite so much. He had to press his lips together tightly to keep from saying more. 

As he was about to close his eyes and take a deep breath, he felt Timmy’s hand squeeze his. His head shot up. He looked down at Timmy’s hand above his and then up into his beautiful green eyes staring straight at him.

“Do you trust that you made the right decision taking a chance on me?”

Waiting a few seconds for his heartbeat to return to normal, he finally croaked out, “yes. Do you?”

The waiter stopped by then. “Are you ready?”

They stared at each other for a few more seconds. Armie had no idea what the waiter must have been thinking.

Finally, Timmy broke their eye contact. He glanced at the waiter. “Yes, I’m ready.” He turned back to Armie. “And, yes, I definitely made the right decision.”

The smile that brightened his face threatened to crack his face in half, but he didn’t care. For a date that started out so rocky, it was easily becoming the best one of his life - not that he had much experience in that department.

What was more amazing was that it just got better from there. They talked about several topics - movies, acting, even family (though that was predominantly on Timmy’s side.) It was because of how well things were going that he let his guard down - big mistake. His last moment of foot-in-mouth disease was the last straw for Timmy. Even now, he didn’t seem capable of letting it go.

The sound of Timmy’s laugh brought him out of the memory. The sound still made his stomach do somersaults. 

“Well, as I said,” Timmy replied as his laughter trailed off, “Sersh is crazy. This is definitely not destiny.”

“Right,” he muttered, picking at a non-existent spot.

“This is just a fucked-up accident.” He put his foot on the ottoman. “A supremely fucked-up accident.”

He glared at his foot and groaned.

Timmy noticed his reaction and rolled his eyes. “Look, I get it that you can’t help that you’re a neat freak and hate things messy, but I’m afraid you’re just going to have to deal with it. I’m a mess...in more ways than one.” He finished under his breath.

Armie sat back and folded his arms across his chest, trying to feign a laid-back attitude, but the thought of clutter in the room was making him a little anxious. There was a solution, though. He’d just have to clean-up after Timmy. Thanks to this virus, there would probably be a lot of extra cleaning necessary, so maybe it wouldn’t be much of a hardship.

“You should see my room at my place. It would probably make you cry. You’re not going to recognize this room in two weeks.” 

It was said in a joking way, but he was not amused. 

“Oh, come on, unclench, okay.” Timmy sucked his teeth. “I’ll try to be on my best behavior, but given this is going to be my room-”

“What?” His head popped up. “You think this is going to be your room?”

“Well, I just assumed…” Timmy’s mouth snapped shut. 

“Wait.” He put his hand on his chest and feigned shock. “You assumed? I thought that wasn’t allowed? Doesn’t making assumptions make you the worst person ever?”

Timmy narrowed his eyes.

Having made his point and feeling for once like he was a step ahead of him, Armie grinned and stood up.

“I’m not going to make you sleep in the living room for two weeks. Not when I’ve got a spare room upstairs.” He nodded towards the stairs. “Come on.”

Timmy trudged behind him as they headed up the spiral staircase. They stopped next to a small alcove that had a white armchair and table. There were three rooms, which were all on the same side.

“That one is my room.” He pointed to the one at the end of the hall. Worried Timmy would get the wrong idea, he started to ramble. “I’m not implying anything telling you where my room is. I’m not expecting anything of you just because you’re staying here. I just thought if you should need anything, and by need anything, I don’t-”

“Just relax.” Timmy put a hand on his arm. 

To his surprise, his expression was full of sympathy.

He squeezed his forearm briefly before letting go. “I didn’t think you meant anything by it. It’s good information to have. You’re right. I might need something, and you could help.”

After flashing him a brief and grateful grin, he walked toward the second door. “This will be your bathroom.” 

There wasn’t anything particularly special about the bathroom. It had one porcelain sink with a medium-length black marble top. There were two ornate light fixtures atop the mirror. To the left was a large shower and bath with a sliding glass door. Next to it was a shiny black toilet.

“How is it even your bathroom looks like my whole apartment could fit inside it?” Timmy whistled. 

He chuckled and leaned against the door jamb.

“I’m not even joking.” Timmy stepped out of the room. “Are we going to share it?”

“No. I have a bathroom next to my room.” He closed the door behind him. 

Timmy nodded.

They walked to the next room. As soon as they stepped in, Timmy paused and glanced all around. To the left, against the wall, was a huge bed covered by a blue checkered comforter, two big pillows, and two small solid navy blue pillows. There were two matching dressers - on opposite walls. In one corner, there were a white partition and two small end tables on either side of the bed. The bed was on top of a large black rug. The rest of the floor was the same gray hardwood as downstairs.

Timmy did a short walk around and then sat on the bed. He looked up at Armie. “You really are a neat freak, aren’t you?”

For a second, he wasn’t sure how to respond. There was no malice in his voice, but he wasn’t sure if his comment was good-natured teasing.

“Most hotel rooms don’t look as good as this,” he continued.

“Well, I’ve had a lot of practice.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s kind of in the blood, I guess.”

The moment Timmy put two and two together was obvious. He stood up with his mouth open. “Wait, you’re one of those Hammers?”

Instead of answering, he rubbed his hands up and down his arms as he scuffed his foot against the floor.

That was enough confirmation for Timmy. He slowly shook his head. “When you said you had family money, you weren’t kidding.”

Armie winced. There were a few things he hated talking about when it came to his family - and their money was near the top of the list. 

His great-grandfather, who he was named after, grew up dirt poor until he literally struck oil. His net worth grew as he became quite a successful land developer. His grandfather, Armand the Second, inherited his great-grandfather’s name and his aptitude for business. He branched out into the hospitality business and opened Legacy Suites. It was a business passed onto Armie’s father.

To his credit, Michael realized Armie had no interest in running a hotel and never suggested it. He did work at the hotel in high school, but that was it. Maybe Michael was more easy-going about it because there was always the chance Viktor would be more interested in it. He’d been working there since middle school and really seemed to enjoy it.

One reason he hated talking about his family’s wealth was he was uncomfortable with how some of his family members made their money He’d heard stories about his great-grandfather being a strict nightmare boss, slightly less tempestuous than Montgomery Burns. There were stories about him cheating his business partners, cutting ethical corners that hurt others, making disparaging comments about minorities, and that he didn’t reach out and help anyone less fortunate than him. Most of his family didn’t attend his funeral.

It scared him that his great-grandfather could have been that toxic. Even if the stories were possibly exaggerated, it was still unsettling. Thankfully, his grandfather and father weren’t like that. They were far from perfect, but they weren’t corrupt, criminal, racist bastards like his great-grandfather.

The main reason he hated talking about his family’s wealth was the way people reacted. There were typically three types of responses. In category one, there were those whose eyes bugged out of their heads and who seemed endlessly fascinated with his family. They behaved as if Armie were their personal Hammer Wikipedia and felt no hesitancy in asking intrusive, personal questions.

With other people, he could just hear the cha-ching sound going off in their brains. They saw him as a potential ATM. He stayed away from those people as much as possible.

In the third category were people who could get downright hostile. They either had someone in their family who knew people in his family, knew his family’s history, and/or just had contempt for rich people.

It was yet another reason he didn’t make, or keep, many friends. Henry had never asked him about it, probably because he knew how what it was like to grow up around money. 

Besides Henry, there were only two people that had different reactions. Saoirse was one of them. While she was curious and asked a couple of questions at first, she picked up on his discomfort and let it drop fast.

At first, he thought Timmy might fall into the first category. He seemed more than a little intrigued, but Armie could see a switch flipped. He suddenly seemed uncomfortable in the room and started to fidget.

“I guess that explains it,” Timmy offered with no explanation.

“What does that mean?” Please, please, please…

“I’ve grown up around rich trust fund kids like you all my life.” His voice seeped in bitterness. “It’s no wonder you looked at me like you did.”

Category three. 

While he should have been used to it this time, the sting felt worse than ever before. His back stiffened. He really thought Timmy would be better than this.

“And how was that?” He tried to sound unaffected, but he couldn’t hide his annoyance.

“You looked down on me.” He started to tick things off on his fingers. “You judged my clothes, the way I talked…”

That was a new accusation. A couple of times he told Timmy _maybe_ he shouldn’t curse so much, but that was it. He didn’t seem to get offended - miraculously. Guess he was wrong.

“As soon as you got there, you thought I would easily go to bed with you as long as you bought me dinner first. People like you look down on people like me. You always have.”

For Timmy, of all people to say something like that...it was too much!

“You’re such a…” He took a deep breath and let it out. “You are such a hypocrite!”

Timmy looked like he might pounce on him.

“All you’ve done is accuse me of making assumptions and being judgmental when that’s all you’ve done to me. Let’s say you’re right, which you’re not, and I made wrong assumptions. I apologized - over and over, but you refused to accept it! I didn’t mean to say anything to hurt you, but you keep deliberately trying to hurt me.” He tugged at his hair. “Why are you acting like such a...jerk?! How could I have misjudged you so much?”

There was a simmering rage - and something else - in Timmy’s eyes. Instead of standing his ground, Armie thought about slowly retreating. 

Before he got a chance to make a decision, Timmy put his face in his hands. When his hands slid down his face, he bit his lip and trained his gaze on the floor. “You know I ask myself the same question.” His voice quivered before he cleared his throat. “But, you know what, neither of us has to worry about it. The date is over. I may have to stay here for a couple of weeks, but as Doctor Stuhlbarg said, it’s a huge place. I’ll try and stay out of your way, and you stay out of mine. Good?”

This is not how he wanted this to go, but he wasn’t sure what else to say or how to fix it, so he said nothing.

“Alright.” Timmy gestured towards the door with his head.

With his hands shoved in his pockets and head hung low, Armie headed out of the room. He gently closed the door behind him.

Big apartment or not, he doubted they could avoid each other much. The thought of living with someone with so much unbearable tension between them was extremely unappealing. All of his life, he grew up like that. He didn’t want to go through that, even if it was just for two weeks.

Yes, he had every right to be frustrated with Timmy, but he knew he needed to do something to bridge this gap between them even if they never saw each other again after this. 

At the thought of never seeing Timmy again a huge knot formed in his stomach. 

Rushing downstairs, he decided to find something to make for dinner. Timmy had to want to eat sometime. 

If they did end up having dinner together, he prayed it ended better than their first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me a comment and let me know what you thought! ❤️😁
> 
> @filmgeekstacey on Tumblr


	3. What's Past Isn't Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timmy updates his mother and Saoirse about what's going on
> 
> He struggles with not letting past issues strain things with Armie, something that doomed their first date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New Year. New Chapter. Same Tension. 😆😝
> 
> Happy New Year to everybody!
> 
> Thank you for the kind comments on the last chapter!

_“Why are you acting like such a jerk?”_

Timmy shut his eyes as tight as he could and tried to block out Armie’s words. He wasn’t a jerk - not usually anyway. There seemed to be something about Armie that brought it out of him.

Sitting up in bed, he grabbed one of the small, navy pillows. At first, he intended to throw it but then hugged it to his chest instead. As much as he would like to, it probably wasn’t fair to blame this all on Armie. He wasn’t making him act this way.

Burying his face in the pillow, he groaned. 

Taking a quick peek around the room, he wasn’t sure what he should do next. Even though he was starting to get hungry, he couldn’t go downstairs right now after making a big deal about avoiding Armie. It would be nice to watch a movie or something, but there was no television in there. He didn’t have his laptop with him, either. 

Glancing to the side, he saw a couple of magazines on the end table. Reaching over, he grabbed them. His no-luck streak continued. Both magazines - the latest Entertainment Weekly and People - he’d already read.

Tossing the magazines aside, he reached in his pocket for his phone. He figured now was as good a time as any to make some calls. While he needed to check with Saoirse again, first he decided to deal with a call he was dreading. 

His mother needed to be informed about what was happening. While he didn’t want to worry her, he knew if he just disappeared for two weeks, she would know about it and worry anyway. 

“Hi, honey.” As usual, she answered before the third ring. 

“Hey, mom.” Though he tried to keep his voice as neutral as possible, she must have picked up on something.

“Is something wrong? How are you?” 

Great, she was already starting with the worry. It would only go downhill from there.

“I’m really okay!” The fake cheer was over-the-top and made him cringe. “The thing is-”

“Oh, God.” Nicole groaned. “My darling boy, when you start with ‘the thing is’ it’s never good.”

Timmy grinned and rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “I want you to know that I do not have the coronavirus.” He swallowed and paused before spitting the next part out in a rush. “However, I may have been exposed to someone who was exposed to the virus so now a doctor from the CDC has us quarantined together.” He held his breath.

His mother didn’t say anything for a long moment, but he felt like he could hear her blinking over the line. Her breathing picked up.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice sounded strained, but far less freaked out than he would have anticipated. “You’re saying you’re quarantined with someone who has the coronavirus?”

“No.” He exhaled. “I’m not quarantined with someone who has it. This person was in close contact with someone who has it. As far as we know, Armie isn’t sick.”

“Armie? Was he your date last night?”

“Yes. Armie Hammer.”

“Oh.” She sighed. “Even so, it was just one date. You don’t know this man. I don’t like the idea of you stuck living with a stranger.”

“It’s fine, mom. It’s like living with a new roommate.” He stroked the soft pillow. “It was a...we spent a lot of time together last night. I got to know him a little. He’s…” Timmy swallowed. “He’s a good man.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

He rarely lied to his mom, and this wasn’t an exception. It didn’t feel like a lie. He pinched the bridge of his nose as his eyes started to sting. 

“That’s good to hear,” Nicole spoke up. “But do you think I could talk to him?”

Timmy chuckled. 

His relationship with his mother was a very good one. They chatted often, even about his love life, though he didn’t share every detail with her. 

One of the things he appreciated most about her was that she wasn’t a helicopter parent. For the most part, she respected his right to make his own decisions. She never shamed him when he messed up. 

Not that her mama bear claws didn’t come out every now and then.

In eighth grade, this snooty rich asshole named Ansel Elgort kept picking on him. He made fun of Timmy’s plain clothes, that he was smaller than the other kids, and that he worked after school. He made a point of going to Timmy’s job with his friends and harassing him there.

After he landed the lead in _Our Town_ that Ansel wanted, Ansel and his friends thought it would be funny to go to the shop and drive away customers by doing things like claiming Timmy had a contagious disease. He threatened to call the cops, but Ansel said his dad was friends with the mayor and nothing could touch him. 

At that, he blew his fuse and slugged him. To his utter shock, he knocked him down with one punch.

Even though it happened after school, Ansel’s family raised holy hell. They didn’t just want him suspended but expelled. They had a meeting with the principal and requested both sets of parents be there, though Timmy’s father Marc couldn’t make it. Both moms did most of the talking.

After listening to Ansel’s mother Erica condescending to and trying to bulldoze everyone and name drop every fifteen seconds, he almost felt sorry for Ansel.

When Erica referred to Timmy as an abusive, foul-mouthed half-breed Nicole had enough. She warned the principal she had powerful friends, too, including on the school board, and she would have him fired if he tried to punish Timmy for something that didn’t happen on school grounds.

“As for you, I have news for you, this is America. We don’t have a queen, and even if we did, you and your lousy dye job wouldn’t qualify.”

Erica gasped and literally clutched her pearls.

“My son is bright, funny, and immensely talented. I’m sorry that your son couldn’t handle everything in life not being handed to him. You need to teach him to learn how to handle rejection because I have a feeling in high school he’ll have more than a few experiences with the word no.”

“Now, wait just a minute-” Erica held up her bony finger.

“Quiet.” Nicole didn’t raise her voice, but the fire in her eyes looked powerful enough to incinerate that finger, and Mrs. Queen of the World shut her mouth quickly. “You also need to teach your son not to be a bully because I promise you if he continues to harass my son I’m going to sign Timmy up for kickboxing classes and you might not like what he does with that nose you paid so much for.”

It was clear the socialite was struggling with not being able to interrupt and ask to speak with the manager. As Nicole stood over her, she kept glancing past her toward the principal, but he stayed in his seat, offering no assistance.

“As for you…” The diminutive Nicole stepped even closer to the much taller blonde woman. “If you ever insult my son again, or even look at him funny, you’ll have more than just a black eye to match your son’s. Are we clear?”

Mrs. Elgort just sputtered.

Nicole glared at the principal. 

“Wait a moment. We need to discuss this further.” He stood up. 

“No, we don’t,” she replied with finality. “Let’s go Timothée.”

He got up immediately, and couldn’t help leveling a smirk at Ansel, giving him a quick middle finger behind Nicole’s back.

As soon as they left the office, he clapped his hands and whooped. “That was awesome!”

“That probably wasn’t the wisest move.” Nicole blinked as if she was coming out of a trance. She turned to him. “Violence is never the answer.”

“Uh-huh.” He suppressed an eye roll. “But you were such a badass, mom!”

She tried to suppress a grin, but couldn’t help laughing on their way out the front door. “I guess I kind of was.” She bumped shoulders with Timmy. 

While Timmy was shorter than the other kids in class, he was already a couple of inches taller than her.

They both laughed the entire way to the car.

The way his mother had his back was amazing, and he never wanted to be on her bad side - not that she would ever mistreat him. But right now, he didn’t need his mother to fight his battles for him. Things were already awkward with Armie, he wasn’t about to have his mother give him the third degree.

“Mom, you know I appreciate you for wanting to help, and I get that you’re scared, but you need to trust me. And, if you can’t trust me, trust Saoirse. You know her. She would not set me up with a psycho.”

He could hear her fingernails tapping against something. “Alright, but you have to promise to call me and your father every day.”

“I promise.”

“And, if the very worst happens…” Her voice cracked.

For like the fifth time that day, he was on the verge of tears.

“You need to let us know. It will kill me if you get sick, but I’d rather know than not know.”

That was typical of her. She liked to face things head-on. He used to think he got that from her, but far too often in recent days, he buried things he chose not to face.

“I know, and I promise mom, I’ll tell you if I get sick but, I’m confident I’ll be okay. We both will.”

After she made him promise two more times to keep her up to date, she got off the phone, so she could tell his father about what was happening.

Timmy told her he would tell his sister Pauline himself. Before doing that, he needed to talk to Saoirse. As he scrolled through his contacts, his gaze drifted to a name slightly below Saoirse’s - Daniel Sherman.

The thought occurred to him that it was pathetic he still had his ex in his contacts over a year after they broke up - a break-up that had been a long time coming. 

Still, he couldn’t help worrying about Daniel. He was a photographer and traveled all over the world. What if he got this virus? He barely had any family left. Who would look out for him?

The bitter part of his brain realized Daniel had several names in his contacts he could call - all of the men and women he’d cheated on him with. 

He had never been Daniel’s first priority. Why should he be his? It would be his own fault if he ended up alone with no one to care for him. Timmy had already wasted too much time, energy, and tears on that man.

And yet, his finger hovered over Daniel’s name. 

As if she knew she needed to come to his rescue yet again, Saoirse called before he could make a big mistake. She had been by his side throughout the whole Daniel saga, always telling him he deserved better.

It was Saoirse who caught Daniel literally balls deep in his latest twink conquest (Daniel had come close to losing said balls when Saoirse, literally, almost ripped them off.) While it was clearly a struggle for her to tell him what happened, she didn’t sugarcoat the truth from him - she never did. It was her that suggested what to do about the situation - “Burn his clothes, toss the ashes in his face, and tell his probably syphilis-riddled ass to fuck off.”

For once, when it came to Daniel, he had listened to her and finally dumped him. Even though he knew it was the right decision, it gutted him. Saoirse was there for him - not with “I told you so’s” - but with tea, sympathy, and a thousand ideas for how to dismember Daniel.

Because she had been there and knew how difficult it had been for him to move on, he had trusted her when she offered - insisted really - on setting him up with her friend Armie (“A 6’5” walking teddy bear.”) Though it took some convincing.

It had seemed like it was Saoirse’s mission to set them up ever since she met Armie. The way she talked about him in such Greek God-like terms he assumed there was no way he could measure up in real life.

There was probably nothing he had been more wrong about in his life. 

Saoirse had offered to show him pictures plenty of times, but he had refused. He assumed his imagination would be much better than the real thing until he met the real thing. As soon as he saw the mountain of genetic perfection, he had to go through every gross thing he could think of to keep from getting rock hard.

Immediately, he knew that no matter how the date turned out Armie’s face would feature exclusively in his spank bank for some time to come. To call him the man of his dreams would be an understatement - his crystal blue eyes, his chiseled jaw with just the right amount of scruff, his sun-kissed blonde hair (not a hair out of place.) Later on, when he smiled, his hotness went up several notches, especially when Timmy saw his prominent and adorable canines.

At first, it was insanely difficult not flirting shamelessly and keeping sex off the brain, but he tried everything he could to keep those thoughts at bay. It was not that he was absolutely opposed to hooking up. He hadn’t been completely celibate this whole year, but this was different - it was supposed to be a real date - a possibility for a future. Saoirse had said Armie was “absolutely 100% boyfriend material.”

Timmy really missed that - being a part of something bigger than himself.

Though he hoped things would go well, he didn’t want to rush things with Armie. So having sex on the first date was a hard no, but try telling that to his dick as he stared at Armie’s gorgeous face (his body looked pretty smoking, too.)

There was a war going on inside of him. A part of him did want to see if Armie really was too good to be true or if Saoirse was right. Maybe they could have something together, but the other part didn’t think he was ready. It wanted to find any excuse to bolt out of the restaurant as soon as possible. 

So, he focused on any flaw he could find. Armie would innocently put his foot in his mouth, and he would pounce. He knew he was nitpicking, but he couldn’t stop. Self-sabotage was one of _his_ flaws.

When he was finally able to get over himself and put his fears aside to give Armie a proper chance, it was more than worth it. He found himself opening up to him in ways he hadn’t expected. Telling Armie about the way people looking down on him made him feel was certainly not part of the plan. It made him feel so exposed, but the way Armie opened up to him in kind about feeling stupid and small...it blew him away. In all his time with Daniel, he had _never_ opened up to him like that.

From there, the date continued in pleasantly unexpected ways. It was absolutely adorable when they talked about their favorite movie, and a sheepish Armie admitted his was _Home Alone._

“I know it’s sort of a kids' movie.”

“It’s an awesome movie.” Timmy nodded with an enthusiastic grin. “My family and I watch it every Christmas along with _A Christmas Story_ and _The Muppet Christmas Carol._ I never get sick of them. What are some of your family’s Christmas traditions?”

“Uh, on Christmas we usually attended a church service, and when we got home my mother hosted a party for her church friends and my dad’s business associates. Then, we had dinner.” Armie started to fidget in his seat. 

He waited expectantly for more, but when it was obvious that was it, he cleared his throat. “Well, that sounds...nice.”

Armie half-shrugged and played with the rim of his cup.

“Did you open presents before church?” He asked, feeling like the mood had shifted and wanting to get things back on track.

“It sort of would depend.” Armie let out a big sigh. “If my brother and I were well-behaved and made a good impression with my mother’s guests, we could open them after everybody left.” He stared down at the table.

The obvious follow-up question he wanted to ask was what happened if they didn’t make a good impression? What did making a good impression even mean? What was his parents’ deal? Saoirse had made a few cryptic comments about Armie’s old-fashioned family, but he wasn’t expecting this.

Though he was dying to ask his questions, he could see Armie was uncomfortable and decided to change the topic.

Armie remained mostly tight-lipped when it came to his family, though the subject came up again when they discussed music. Timmy talked about his massive obsession with Kid Cudi.

“Hip-hop is hands-down my favorite genre. My mom and my sister Pauline were convinced I’d outgrow it, but the joke’s on them because I still jam to it every day.” He chuckled.

“I’ve never really listened to that type of music. The little I’ve heard did sound pretty good.” Armie took a bite of his food.

“The little you’ve heard?” His eyes bugged out.

“Yeah.” Armie scratched the back of his neck. “My mom always said that type of music was...wrong. We couldn’t listen to rap or heavy metal either. My mom just has really, really conservative old-fashioned beliefs, and that’s okay. For the most part.”

While Armie was trying to put on a brave face, when he looked in his eyes he saw such sadness and felt a huge swell of pity for him. Growing up gay with such a controlling, conservative mother could not have been easy, but Timmy hated it when people looked at him with pity. He wouldn’t do that to Armie. 

He plastered on a grin and poked Armie’s forearm with the end of his fork. “Now, I can’t stop picturing you in a barn, like Kevin Bacon in _Footloose_ , dancing out your frustration.”

To his relief, Armie snorted, but Timmy’s laughter died abruptly. 

“Oh, God, please tell me you were at least allowed to dance?”

“Well, she didn’t tell us we couldn’t, so we could if we had wanted to.” He stared at the floor. “Not that I was ever very good at it.”

“That’s good.” He held his hand to his chest and let out a big sigh of relief. His gaze flicked up, and he caught Armie’s eye. “As far as not being a good dancer, I could show you a few moves.”

He tried to make it sound as seductive as possible and was rewarded with the cutest blush coloring Armie’s beautiful face.

“Y-you’d certainly have your work cut out for you. Look up ‘two left feet’ in the dictionary, and my face would be there.” He bowed his head, barely noticing when Timmy reached over and took a scallop from his plate.

“I don’t mind.” He shrugged. “Getting to move your body anyway I want sounds like fun.” He slowly wrapped his mouth around the scallop on his fork.

Armie’s blush deepened.

“Plus, I love dancing, so I’d have a good time no matter what,” he added.

“Saoirse mentioned that. She’s talked about you two dancing until sunrise more than a couple of times.”

“Yep.” He nodded. “No matter how down I might be feeling, a good dance party can sort me out. I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t express myself like that through dancing, music, or especially acting. The arts were always important in my house growing up.”

“Saoirse raved about your acting.” He sat back in his seat with a sweet smile. “She says you’re incredibly talented and have had some success so far.” 

Timmy suddenly found the decor fascinating, even though talking about acting was, in general, a thrill for him. It was more than just a passion of his. He loved acting beyond words, but when it came to his own abilities, that was a trickier subject.

Usually, he tried to project self-confidence in everything he did, even if he wasn’t feeling it, but with acting, it was harder. When he performed in high school, people were always telling him how amazing he was, but for some reason, he had trouble accepting the praise.

“I don’t know how successful I’ve been.” He stared down at the smeared ketchup on his plate. “When I was younger I had a blink and you’ll miss it part on _Law & Order_. I was alive, and then boom, I was dead.” He let out a weak chuckle. “Other than that, I’ve done a few commercials and off-off-Broadway plays.”

“That sounds pretty good to me, especially since you’re still so young. Your mom must be really proud.”

“Um…” He swallowed. “In general, she is.”

“But not about acting?” Armie’s brow furrowed.

“She’s supportive about that. She’s always front row at my plays, always gushing about my performances. As I said, the arts are something really important to her. I’ve had relatives who are singers, actors, playwrights. My grandmother was a dancer, so was my mother when she was younger. Still, there are downsides to the business. I had an uncle and cousins who had bad experiences, which is an understatement. My mother would just prefer I do something more practical.”

“That makes sense.”

“But she knows that it’s my choice, and she respects that,” he continued not wanting Armie to get any wrong ideas about his mother.

“You’re lucky.” What he could only describe as a look of longing passed over his face, before Armie flashed him a brief, tight-lipped smile.

“I know,” he said softly.

Keeping his gaze trained down, Armie focused on finishing the last of his scallops.

“I’m not the only one who got rave reviews from Saoirse.” He perked up in his chair. “She says you’ve been very impressive in your acting classes.”

“I don’t know about that.” Armie wiped his mouth with a napkin. “It has been a lot of fun, though. A lot more fun than I expected.”

“Do you think you’ll want to pursue it further?”

“I don’t know.” He glanced up at the ceiling in thought. “It’s not something I would have pursued before, but I have a lot more freedom now and...maybe. It’s nice dealing with made-up problems every once in a while. Even if it’s for a few minutes, stepping outside of myself...not being me.” He chewed on his bottom lip.

“I know what you mean.” Timmy reached over and squeezed his hand.

It was another supercharged moment between them. The attraction he felt to Armie...it had never been this strong this fast, though it wasn’t just a physical connection. There were thoughts in his head now - thoughts about the future. A future that extended much further than tonight. 

He was seriously considering ignoring his instincts and inviting Armie back to his place.

It was close to ten o’clock when the waiter came by with the check. They split it, even though Armie had insisted on paying at first.

“You took a Lyft here, right?” Armie asked after the waiter brought back the receipt.

He nodded, feeling butterflies attacking his stomach.

“I drove here.” Armie ran his hand through his hair. “I can take you home. If you’re okay with me knowing where you live.”

God, this man was adorable. His nerves dissipated with Armie making the first move. 

“I think I’m okay with that.” He beamed.

Timmy and Saoirse’s apartment was only ten minutes from the restaurant. They mostly talked about how weird it was Armie hadn’t been there yet, even though Saoirse had invited him a dozen or so times. Timmy mentioned it felt like he was living alone now since Saoirse spent so much time lately either at work, acting class, or with her boyfriend.

When Armie parked the car, he felt those butterflies return - it hadn’t felt like that since just before he lost his virginity to his childhood friend, Will.

Armie didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands as they went from the steering wheel to his lap back to the steering wheel. As they landed in his lap once again, he gently covered Armie’s hands.

“I’m really glad Saoirse set this up.”

“I am, too.” Armie shyly looked up at him through his long, gorgeous lashes. 

“I’m really attracted to you.” His thumb caressed the back of his hand. 

“Me, too,” Armie croaked before clearing his throat with a light, embarrassed chuckle. “I didn’t know what to expect tonight. I didn’t even know if this was a real date.”

His thumb faltered. “A ‘real’ date?”

“I thought maybe it was just a hook-up?” His response was stilted.

“You take all of your hook-ups to dinner?” He tried to laugh, but it got caught in his throat. There was a pit forming in his stomach.

“I’ve never done this before.” Armie shrugged. “I don’t know how this works. I thought you should get something out of it before we...before we…”

He slowly slid his hand away, and he stared up at Armie. “Yout thought I should ‘get something’ out of it?’”

Armie nodded blankly.

“You thought I should be compensated...for having sex…”

“Uh…”

“Like a whore?”

“That is not - no - that’s not - the way I meant it at all.” Armie’s eyes widened. 

Despite the sincerity in his voice, he recoiled away from him. The comment was like being doused with frigid water. It brought him out of the infatuation cloud he’d been stuck in and brought him down to Earth. All of the warmth he felt was replaced with a growing coldness. 

What had he been thinking? 

“I knew this was a bad idea.” He shook his head.

“But you just said you were glad Saoirse set us up.” Armie reached for him, but he snatched his hand back.

“Yeah, well, you treating me like a whore made me change my mind.” He ripped his seatbelt off and stormed out.

“Timmy, wait.” Armie followed him. “You’re overreacting.”

“ _I’m_ overreacting.” He whirled around. “So, this is all my fault?”

Armie covered his face and groaned. “I’m not saying that. It’s just-”

“You know, I knew I should have listened to my instincts the first time when you made fun of my clothes, but I let it go, and after that crack about my job…” He tugged at his curly hair.

“You said you understood that,” Armie cried.

“That’s because I was trying to give you the benefit of the doubt because I thought you were a nice guy.” He couldn’t help feeling like a fool for beginning to trust him. All along, he knew this was too good to be true, and he was right.

“I am a nice guy!” He stepped toward him. “I am.” His voice lowered. “We had a great time. I know it. I know I did. Please don’t change your mind because I say the wrong thing sometimes.”

There was such a soft look in his eyes. He sounded so passionate like he truly cared about making this work as if he already cared about Timmy.

Still, he took a step back.

Too many times in the past he should’ve listened to his instincts, but didn’t. It always caused him pain, and after Daniel, he vowed to always listen to them.

More than likely, Armie was a nice guy, but this was going too fast, and it scared him how it already hurt to think of what would happen if he trusted Armie and he ended up being wrong. Better to just end it now.

“We had a good time, but I don’t think we have a future together.” He let out a shaky breath. “You’re not who I thought you were, and it’s just not worth it.”

Armie opened his mouth to speak, but he held up his hand.

“No,” Timmy said with finality. “I don’t want to see you again.” He took a few steps backward. “I’m sorry. Goodbye.” He turned and hurried inside.

Once inside, he headed to his room. To keep from crying, he screamed into his pillow instead. After, he put his headphones on to listen to music until he fell asleep. Pictures of Armie’s face kept flashing in his mind, no matter how hard he tried to stop it. 

In the morning, he woke up to dozens of texts from Saoirse. It seemed Armie had not told her what happened. Her texts started fairly light-hearted with her just wanting details, then they became more salacious as she joked about him needing to text her after his second orgasm. By the end, she seemed more worried and simply pleaded with him to call her ASAP.

Knowing how relentless she could be, he decided to respond, but he just texted her. He told her Armie was a jerk and treated him like a whore. Her initial dismissive text “no fucking way” just made him more annoyed with her and Armie. She was supposed to be his best friend, not Armie’s.

To prove his point, he told her everything Armie said and did, and she still called him a “drama queen.” After that, he told her to leave him alone and refused to answer most of her calls and texts. 

But, right now, with everything so stressful, there was no one he wanted to talk to more.

At this point, he didn’t know how long his phone had been buzzing, so he picked up the phone right away.

“Oh, my God, Timmy! Next time pick up your phone faster!”

He had to hold the phone away from his ear, she was so loud. “Okay, okay. Next time say it louder, I don’t think they heard you on Mars.” Despite his annoyance, he smiled, happy to hear her voice.

“I’m sorry. I’ve just been so worried since I heard your message. I can’t believe this is happening.” It sounded like she might be on the verge of tears, which made him soften even more.

“You and me both. The worst date of my life, and now I might be stuck with him for two weeks.” He couldn’t help needling her. “Thanks a lot.”

“Oh, like I could have predicted this.” She sighed. “Poor you and poor Armie.” She paused, and he could picture her chewing on her thumbnail. “Please tell me you’re not blaming him for this?”

“No, I’m not blaming your precious Armie.” He rolled his eyes. “There are plenty of other things to blame him for.”

She groaned. “Why can’t you just let that go?” 

“Why should I?” He petulantly sat back against the headboard. “You really don’t think what he said to me was gross?”

“I get why you took it the way you did - at first - but come on, you know that he was not calling you a whore, that is not something Armie would do in a million years. He apologizes to people who bump into him. He’s not aggressive, and he would not insult you like that.” 

“I don’t really think he thought it was an insult. Probably thought I should thank my lucky stars for getting a chance to sleep with him.” He sunk lower and scowled.

“If you knew him at all, you would know how not true that is, especially since -” She cut off abruptly.

“What?” 

“Nothing. Nothing.” She sighed deeply over the line. “Armie gets really nervous, and he tends to ramble, which could lead to him saying the wrong thing _obviously_ \- but he means well. He’s a nice guy.”

“Right. A ‘nice guy.’” He did the air quotes even though she couldn’t see them.

“No,” she insisted. “Not that kind of nice guy. I’m starting to get insulted and not just on Armie’s behalf.”

“What does that mean?” He sat up. 

“Timmy, I’m your best friend. You know I would never hurt you. I wouldn’t set you up with a jerk.”

He laid down on the bed with his cheek against the cool bedspread. He blew out a breath. Of course, he knew that was true. Still, his stubborn side wouldn’t let it go.

“Maybe you don’t know Armie as well as you think? You’re always saying he’s such a great actor.”

“He’s good, but he’s not that good.” She clucked her tongue. “Neither are you for that matter.”

“Now you’re insulting my acting?” He could sense he was pouting, but couldn’t help it. 

“No, but you know I can see right through you, especially when you’re defensive like this. You and I both know who, and what, this is about.”

He set aside the phone and banged his head against the bed. Putting the phone back against his ear, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why do you keep trying to bring him into this?”

“I’m not the one doing that.” She paused, inhaling, and letting it out. “Believe me, I know what Daniel did hurt you. I get it’s going to be difficult to trust another man, but not all guys are like him, especially someone like Armie.”

“Please don’t give me the sales pitch again.” He groaned.

“Clearly, I need to. Armie is the _sweetest_ man. He’s considerate and gentle and funnier than he knows. It would be easy for him to be a giant asshole given what his mother-” She stopped again. “Shit, I shouldn’t have mentioned her.”

“Armie talked about her a little. She sounds like a real piece of work.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

He could hear her grinding her teeth. It was crystal clear she wasn’t a big fan.

“Look, you’ve both been through a lot, and I really think you can help each other. Can you please just be nice and try to keep an open mind?” She pleaded. “Or do you want to be awkward and miserable for the next two weeks?”

A part of him was annoyed since to him, it felt like she was lecturing him. The phrase “he started it” actually went through his mind, which is when he realized how immature he was being.

Plus, once again, she hit the nail on the head. They had to try and make the best of this unless they wanted to be uncomfortable this entire time. 

“Alright, I’ll try and be on my best behavior.” He sat up, leaning against his elbow

“Thank you.” There was some hesitation before she continued. It seemed she wanted to say more, but she let it drop. “Now...what do you need? I know you asked me to bring your clothes to the health department. Is there anything else you need?”

“Uh...my headphones, phone charger, toothbrush, a couple of my favorite books, and some snacks.” Timmy ticked off on his fingers.

“You know I’m not bringing you any of that unhealthy shit you like.”

“Do you want me to lose my mind here?” He knew he sounded melodramatic and didn’t care.

“You will not lose your mind if you don’t have Skittles for two weeks.” She chuckled. “But alright, I’ll bring you some Frosted Flakes, but that’s it.”

“Yes!” He pumped both arms in the air. “I’ll take it.” He rolled onto his back. “Can you also do me a favor and take one more look around the apartment for my bracelet? I doubt it’s there, but just in case.”

“Sure.” There was a hitch in her voice when she spoke next. “You have to promise to call me every day.”

“My mom made me promise the same thing - three times.” He rose up and moved to the edge of the bed. 

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

“I promise I’ll call every day.” He crossed his legs in front of him and swung them against the bed.

“I’ll probably call three times anyway.” She chortled and sniffed at the same time.

“Only three times?” He replied, a sad grin on his face.

“Well, I’ll only call three times. I’ll text every hour and e-mail. I’ll even send regular mail if you want.”

“I like mail, but that’s okay.” He tried to sound more cheerful than he felt. “Please don’t cry. I’m going to be okay. _We’re_ going to be okay.”

“I’m not crying.” She tried to subtly sniffle. “And I’m not worried. I know I’m right. You and Armie will be good for each other. You’ll take care of each other.”

It unnerved him there was a possibility she was right. He rubbed the back of his neck. “All I can promise is we won’t kill each other.”

“I guess that’s all I can ask for.” 

Knowing her, he knew that wouldn’t be the last of it, but he was grateful she was letting it go for now. “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing good. If it were at all possible Hugh would probably like to keep me in a plastic bubble, but he knows I’d never go for that.” Hugh Lowell was her boyfriend of one year. He looked like a stocker, slightly shorter version of Armie. “He’s making sure people are keeping their distance, and we’re going out to get some masks later.”

“That’s good.” He nodded. 

Sometimes he had his issues with Hugh - their personalities clashed, now and then. Now that he thought about it, not only did he look a bit like Armie, but their personalities were similar. He did treat Saoirse right, and that was all that mattered. 

“Please, continue to be careful,” he stressed.

“You, too, pony.” She giggled.

“Come on, I thought you retired that creepy nickname.” Timmy grimaced. 

“I said I’d stop using it. I never said for how long.”

“You are a strange bird.” He put his face in his hand while shaking his head.

“But you love me anyway.” Her voice was overflowing with affection.

“I really do.” He meant it with all of his heart.

“I do, too.” She cleared her throat. “My not pony.”

Timmy threw his head back and laughed. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

As soon as he hung up with her, his stomach growled. It was so loud he was afraid a tiger would climb out of his mouth the next time he opened it. Taking a deep breath, he decided despite making a big deal about avoiding each other he would venture downstairs. They were both adults. If he ran into Armie, he would just...ignore him.

Or, he could be an adult and apologize. It wasn’t fair to Armie to put his baggage - because of Daniel, because of his history with rich douchebags - on Armie who hadn’t done anything but get tongue-tied sometimes.

When he stood up, it was as if his hunger grew exponentially, and he hurried out of the room and down the stairs. After stepping into the kitchen, he took a quick look around. Armie wasn’t in the living room. Before he could wonder where he was, he heard his voice wafting in from the balcony.

“I’m not going to say anything-” He let out a frustrated groan. “Believe me, I am well aware of what you think of my choices, but please mother -”

Armie paused again. He leaned against the bar but tried to be discreet.

“Fine...Dru.” His voice sounded weaker, and it was hard for Timmy to hear. “May, I please just speak with him for a second?”

Deciding this was too personal, he walked to the refrigerator and tried to tune out the rest of the conversation, which wasn’t hard since Armie was whispering or not speaking.

The refrigerator was moderately filled. Besides milk, there were two gallons of water, grapefruit juice, and orange juice. He pumped his fist at the sight of orange juice since it was his favorite. To eat, there were various fruits and vegetables, but nothing like lunchmeat or cheese to make a sandwich. 

When he checked the bottom cabinet, there were wraps, but no regular bread. Most of the “snacks” were the kind of health foodstuff he hated (granola, nuts, dried figs) but Saoirse loved. No wonder she and Armie were such good friends.

He stopped his search when he heard the balcony door close. When Armie appeared by the kitchen, he jumped slightly.

“He-Hey.” Armie blinked at him. “I didn’t expect to see you for a while.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t have breakfast, and,” he patted his stomach, “this needed to be fed.”

Armie’s gaze flicked to his stomach. “Of course.” He stepped further inside. “I know it’s a little late, but I could make you some breakfast? Pancakes? I know you have a sweet tooth.”

He had to valiantly fight off a smile. Not only was he touched at the offer to make him breakfast, but also that Armie remembered he had a sweet tooth. 

Still, he waved off the offer.

“Thanks, but I’m not really in the mood for pancakes right now.” He leaned against the island in the kitchen. “I didn’t see any pancake mix here.”

“I would make it from scratch. It would be much healthier that way,” he explained.

“Saoirse says the same thing.” Timmy grinned. “Clearly, you like to eat healthily. Do you have a sweet tooth at all?”

“Sometimes.” Armie rubbed the back of his neck. “I know it’s not good for you so I try to keep the unhealthy stuff out of my reach.”

“Out of your reach?” He straightened up. “What’s considered out of your reach, the Empire State Building?”

Even though Armie’s laugh was genuine, he wondered if the height jokes bothered him.

“Sorry about the joke. The set-up was just too good.”

“It’s fine.” Armie shrugged. “Those types of jokes don’t really bother me. I’m used to them.”

He moved past Timmy to the refrigerator, grabbed a small step ladder that was shoved between the refrigerator and the wall, after taking it out, he used it to open the door to the small pantry above the fridge. 

Timmy watched as he pulled out a few items - marshmallows, marshmallow creme, gummi bears, and sour cream potato chips.

“See anything you like?” Armie laid them out on the island.

He stroked his chin as he pretended to give it some thought. “Well, I like chips. Gummi bears are good, too, and I definitely like marshmallows.

“So, all of it then?” A slow smile spread over his face.

“Pretty much, yeah.” He nodded, chuckling.

“I have other stuff back there in case you’re interested. I’ve got soft batch cookies, cookie dough, oatmeal creme pies, Oreos…”

“Wow, and here I thought we wouldn’t have access to the grocery store,” he teased.

“Guess I have a pretty big sweet tooth.” Armie bit his lip. His cheeks flushed. 

“I’ll say.” He picked up the bag of marshmallows. “What’s your favorite?”

“I like making fluffer nutters.”

Timmy cocked his head to the side. He may as well have been speaking a foreign language. “What the hell is that?”

Armie grinned and took the marshmallows from him. “It’s a sandwich - a weird sandwich, I guess. It’s filled with peanut butter, marshmallows, and marshmallow creme.”

It sounded a little odd but potentially tasty, too.

“I can make one if you’d like?” He seemed nervous as if he expected Timmy to bite his head off at any moment. After how their last conversation ended, he couldn’t really blame him.

It really surprised him how pleasant their conversation was going given his prior attitude. Despite how mad he’d been previously, he wanted to keep that going.

“Sure, I’ve never had anything with peanut butter I didn’t like.”

Armie smiled. He got the peanut butter and bread - from his sweet stuff stash - and set them all on the counter. 

Without thinking, he hopped up on the island and sat next to him. “Is this okay?” He asked when he noticed Armie glance at where he was seated.

“It’s fine,” he answered as he took out four slices of bread.

It was on the tip of his tongue to apologize for his previous behavior when Armie interrupted.

“The health department called a little while ago. Unfortunately, they won’t be able to deliver your things until tomorrow.” He looked up at him apologetically.

“Well, that blows.” Timmy frowned.

“I know.” He uncapped the container of peanut butter. “If you need anything, I’ll try to help if I can, like I can lend you something to sleep in.”

“Thanks, that’s really nice. I don’t need anything to sleep in, though. I usually sleep naked.”

The knife slipped as Armie was spreading peanut butter and it narrowly missed cutting his thumb. 

“Are you okay?” He touched his wrist.

“Yeah.” Armie couldn’t make eye contact with him as he blinked down rapidly. “My mind wandered, and the knife slipped.”

Now that he knew Armie was okay, he couldn’t help sinking into the humor of the moment.

“Your mind wandered?” He grinned down knowingly. “I can’t imagine what possible reason why.”

“People’s minds wander for various reasons.” Armie swallowed and scooped at a huge glob of peanut butter and started spreading it.

“Uh-huh.” Even though it was his fondest wish to keep teasing him, to keep the positive atmosphere between them, he sadly decided to let it drop. “That is true.”

A silence fell over the room, as he watched him make the sandwiches. When Armie was done, he cut the crusts off both of them. After noticing the odd look Timmy was giving the sandwich, he laughed.

“I’m sorry, a force of habit. This is how I always made them for my brother Viktor. He is not a fan of crusts.”

“Oh.”

Armie got out two small plates and placed the sandwiches on them. Instead of handing Timmy the sandwich, he took both plates and walked across the room to the dining area. He set the plates on table mats.

“How old is your brother?” He followed him, trying to remember his name. “Viktor, right?” 

“Yes, Viktor. ” Armie glanced over his shoulder and smiled, before heading back to the kitchen. “He’s sixteen and lives with my mother.”

As he trailed Armie back to the kitchen, he recalled a bit of the conversation he’d overheard a few minutes ago. “When I came downstairs, I couldn’t help hearing part of your conversation. Was that who you were trying to talk to?”

“Yes.” Armie’s voice was tight. He put the cutting board and knife in the sink and started to clean them.

“Did you get to talk to him?” He leaned against the bar, a few inches away.

“No.” He scrubbed too hard at the already clean knife.

“Maybe you’ll have better luck later?” He said even though he had a feeling that probably wasn’t the case.

“I doubt it.” Armie stuffed the wet board and knife on the dish rack next to the sink, then wiped his hands on a dishtowel. “My mother won’t let me speak to him.”

“Why not?” He asked softly.

Armie folded the towel and placed it on the other side of the sink. He leaned against the counter and gazed up at the ceiling and blew out a breath. 

“Because...because I’m a deviant, and she doesn’t want me corrupting the one son she has left.”

With everything, he’d heard about his mother that information probably shouldn’t have surprised him, but it still threw him for a loop. Throughout his life, he’d met a range of horrible people, including mothers like Ansel’s, but he still had trouble processing a mother being that cruel.

“That is…” He rubbed his eyes. “That is fucking disgusting.”

When he glanced up at him, Armie’s eyes were glistening, and he seemed so young and small. Soon, Armie squared his shoulders and sniffed loudly.

“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have brought it up,” he said, despite the fact, it was Timmy who brought it up. “You said you were hungry. Let’s eat.” He walked past him.

“It's not okay.” He reached Armie and stopped him by grabbing his arm. “Your mother called you a deviant. Why? Because you’re gay?”

Armie hung his head before turning around. “What she has said is not okay, but you don’t understand. She doesn’t really mean it.”

“You really think so?” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“She doesn’t really know any better. This is how she was raised. She’s _extremely_ conservative and has a hard time accepting how things are now.” The excuse was weak, and by Timmy’s dubious expression, he knew it, too.

“And you think she’s going to see the light anytime soon?”

“I don’t-” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It won’t happen overnight, but she’ll get there. She loves me.”

The thought was understandable but naive. 

Her words kept playing in Timmy’s head. He got angrier on Armie’s behalf and on behalf of everyone like himself who constantly had to deal with people like her.

“People like that aren’t capable of love, and they don’t deserve the kind of consideration they’d never give people like us. Being religious isn’t an excuse for someone acting like a raging bitch.”

It stunned him speechless when Armie shoved him. The way his eyes widened indicated he was equally surprised at his actions. “Just stop! Is it possible for you to think before you speak for one minute?” He ran his hands through his hair. “You don’t know my mother. As you said before, you barely know me. You don’t know anything. God, you sound like...” He trailed off in a huff.

“What?” He spat out.

Armie rubbed his hands over his face. When Timmy continued to stare at him, he threw up his hands. “The person you’re reminding me of right now is my mother.

His mouth dropped open, and he sputtered in anger. “You’re comparing me to your bigoted mother?!”

“You asked, didn’t you?” He tried to remain stoic, but soon his whole body sagged, and he closed his eyes. “I can’t...I can’t do this right now.” He glanced behind him. “Enjoy your sandwich.” His voice sounded so weary.

Without another word, he walked away and up the stairs.

Enjoy my sandwich? How the hell was he supposed to do that?

A seething Timmy marched into the living room and wildly looked around for something to destroy. How could Armie dare compare him to a homophobe? Even if that homophobe was his mother.

It made him think of his own mother, who was the best. She was loving and loyal - his greatest champion and defender. He tried to imagine her saying something as despicable as Armie’s mother said to him. It was unfathomable.

Unfortunately, there were too many people like Armie who weren’t so lucky. It had to be soul-crushing, but no matter what, it didn’t change the horrible fact that she was his mother and always would be. If the unthinkable happened and Nicole was cruel to him, he knew he couldn’t stop loving her - not right away, maybe never.

If Armie wanted to believe his mother loved him, who was he to try and take that away from him?

Instead of destroying something, he flung himself back onto the couch. So much for keeping a positive atmosphere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated! 😁❤️
> 
> @filmgeekstacey on Tumblr


	4. The Line is a Dot to You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armie tries to make amends with Timmy and keep the peace, but it becomes complicated when Timmy's belongings arrive and Armie has to deal with hang-ups from his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, sorry for the delay. Secondly, just to touch on the drama over the last month - if you've been following me on Tumblr, I think you know my stance. I 100% believe in Armie. Unlike others, I'm not turning my back on him based on faked screenshots and others' less than credible tales, so I will definitely still be writing my AUs and other canon-related stories I have on the backburner. 
> 
> I also firmly believe in Charmie. It's never been truly known whether they are a couple, or whether they ever have been (though I believe they have) but I know without a doubt, they love each other deeply, and that's enough for me. ❤️💜💙
> 
> As for the story, I'll be upfront and say I have no idea what goes on in the health department or how they'd handle a situation like this, so what happens in this chapter is more than likely complete fiction.
> 
> Warning - chapter contains talk of Dru and her homophobia.

After tossing and turning most of the night, Armie spent the last half hour staring up at the ceiling replaying much of what had transpired the previous day. When he got done beating himself up over how he had handled things, his dominant thoughts were about Timmy and his mother. 

Both of them had such strong personalities. They both provoked strong emotions in him and pushed his buttons, but that was definitely where the similarities ended. It was unfair of him to tell Timmy he was like her.

Yes, he had been judgmental, and it ticked Armie off, especially considering the accusations that Timmy had thrown at him, but his reaction to what Dru said wasn’t judgmental, it was human. As a gay man, of course, it angered him to hear someone equate homosexuality with deviance. It sickened him, too.

If anything, he should have been grateful for his reaction. He was mad on Armie’s behalf for once. He was being protective. Given how often he’d been dreaming of finding someone who would stand up for him, it should have made him happy. 

When he thought about Timmy confronting Dru - which he had dreamed about during his fitful bouts of sleep - and standing up for him, this burst of warmth bloomed in his chest. She may have been his mother, but there was no getting around what she was. 

She had already ruined too many relationships in his life. He wasn’t going to let her ruin this. Unfortunately, he was doing a good enough job of that on his own.

Determined, he got out of bed and quickly brushed his teeth before heading downstairs, not bothering to change out of his white t-shirt and gray sleep pants. An hour later, he had a breakfast fit for a king spread out on the table. There was a huge stack of toast, a plate full of scrambled eggs, and a plate of fried eggs (he hoped at least one of those was how Timmy liked his eggs.)

To satisfy Timmy’s sweet tooth, he made pancakes as well as french toast. He put out jam, jellies, butter. This was one of those times that he wished he could go grocery shopping, so he could get some powdered sugar.

When he saw that Timmy hadn’t eaten the fluffernutter from yesterday, he dumped the remains in the trash and debated whether to make another. But, looking at the table, he realized that could wait for another day.

Despite his tendency to complain, Armie was hopeful that there had to be something there that he would like. It didn’t take long for him to get a chance to test out his theory when, a few minutes later, Timmy came downstairs yawning, scratching his belly. 

“Whoa!” His eyes widened comically when he saw the amount of food on the table. “That is... I’ve seen less food at an IHOP.”

A nervous chuckle escaped his lips as he started to feel his mouth go a bit dry. He hung back halfway between the kitchen and dining area.

Inhaling deeply, Timmy walked up to the table and glanced over at him. “I’d ask what army you were trying to feed, but, you know, quarantine.”

“Right.” He played with the spatula in his hand. “No. This is for us.” 

“For the entire two weeks?” Timmy’s eyebrows rose to his hairline as he grinned.

“Come on. I saw how much you ate at dinner. You could probably put this away in a day or two.” He shifted on his feet. 

Despite the banter, this feeling of unease wouldn’t go away. This is how it tended to start with them before always going downhill.

Walking over to the table, he put down the spatula. “Uh, I think since it’s a new day, maybe we could have a fresh start. I made this as a sort of peace offering.” He let out a breath and turned to Timmy. “So, do you want to join me for breakfast?”

Timmy opened his mouth to respond, but his stomach cut in and answered for him when it loudly grumbled.

Easy laughter flowed between them.

“I guess that settles it then.” Timmy flashed a brief grin and sat down.

“I made eggs - scrambled and fried - but if you want a different kind, I can make any type you want.” He picked up a plate and pointed to the eggs. 

“No, that’s fine.” He shook his head. “Actually, scrambled is my favorite.”

A relieved Armie smiled and started to pile them on a plate for him. “Anything else?”

“It would probably be easier if I did it myself, but thank you.” He reached for the plate. 

“Right.” He nodded. “And you’re welcome.” He sat down opposite Timmy and started to fix a plate for himself. 

As he watched Timmy gazing at everything on the table with hungry eyes, seeming not to know what to try first, he had a thought that made him bite back a grin. _Maybe the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach._

While he was happy that Timmy seemed to be enjoying everything he was sampling, as he realized on their date, his table manners could use some work. He shoveled food into his face as if he were worried someone would snatch it away at any moment. The sound of his loud chewing was also a bit grating, but Armie wouldn’t dare bring that up with him now, maybe at a different time - hopefully when things weren’t so fraught between them. 

Speaking of that tension...

“I owe you an apology.” He cleared his throat. “I should not have bitten your head off about what you said last night. You’re right. My mother’s religion isn’t an excuse for what she said and how she’s behaved. I don’t know why I make excuses for her.” He hugged his arms around his stomach. 

It seemed like Timmy was debating whether to speak up or just listen as he put down his fork and swallowed. Since he didn’t make a move to speak, his decision appeared to be made.

“She’s my mother. She may find it easy to…” He bit his lip. “It’s hard for me to completely cut myself off from her.”

“I get it,” he whispered. “I really do. My mom may be different, but I get wanting to protect your mom. I shouldn’t have said anything.” He rubbed his thumb against the fork handle. “You really don’t need to apologize. I appreciate the massive breakfast - which is delicious.”

He felt a silly sense of pride at the simple compliment.

“But you don’t need to make it up to me. You don’t have to tell me this stuff if you don’t want to. Just because we’re stuck here together doesn’t mean we need to be...friends or anything.”

It took him a few seconds to work up his nerve. “What if I want to be?”

Timmy’s gaze found his. There were so many micro-expressions flickering across his face, he wasn’t sure what he was going to say.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Timmy’s head snapped up toward the sound. “Who do you think that is?”

Armie shrugged. He got up and headed towards the door with Timmy right on his heels.

When he looked through the peephole, he spotted a woman he didn’t recognize standing there. She had on a face shield, mask, and gloves.

“Who are you?” He asked through the door.

“My name is Florida Jones. I’m from the health department,” the red-head announced. “I have some personal effects for a Mr. Chal-chala-meat?”

He held back a snicker when he glanced to the side and saw Timmy roll his eyes.

“That’s Chalamet,” Armie corrected her.

“Right.” She sounded like she didn’t care a bit. “I have some groceries, too.”

“Okay.” He unlocked the door, opening the door wide enough for her to step through.

“Can you back up a bit?” Ms. Jones eyed them with a wary look in her eyes.

After exchanging a brief glance - Timmy appearing a little annoyed - they both took a step or two back. 

Next to her was a small, dark green suitcase and a medium-sized brown box. She brought the suitcase inside and then the box.

“Do you want to see any identification?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

“That won’t be necessary,” she responded as she straightened up.

Armie quickly glanced down and saw the box was mostly filled with food - chips and some generic coffee were the first he spotted.

Florida quickly walked back outside. “I’m sure the doctor told you this when you spoke before, but we will call you when we’ll have a test ready for you both. You have a nice day.” She gave a short, awkward wave and started to turn away.

“Wait.” He advanced a little closer while still trying to maintain some distance. “Do you have any idea when that might be? When will we be able to take a test?”

“I’m sorry. I’m not sure when that will be. A lot is going on - many tests to give out and process those results - and we don’t have enough resources.” She frowned.

“Right. Dr. Stuhlbarg said the same thing.” He wrung his hands as he stared at the floor. “Thank you.”

She nodded and departed as fast as her feet would carry her.

When he shut the door, he noticed how quiet Timmy had been. When he turned, he saw that Timmy and his suitcase were gone. Before he had to wonder where he’d wandered off to, he glided down the stairs with a big smile on his face.

“You never know how much you missed something until it’s gone.” He was clutching his laptop against his chest.

He strode over to the living room and plopped down on the armchair, opening his computer.

When he received his stuff, Armie thought the first thing he would want to do is change his clothes, but guess he really did miss his laptop.

Leaving him to it, he debated watching a movie on his laptop upstairs or staying down there. Not wanting to be alone, he retrieved his computer from his room and brought it down. 

After having an inner debate for eons, he decided to watch _The Matrix_. When that finished, he listened to some classical music while checking some work emails, though he wouldn’t be back to work for a couple of weeks (even though his job was one he could easily do from home, when he told his boss about what was happening, she said he didn’t have to be back to work until after the quarantine was over.)

Checking his watch, he saw it was close to 2 o’clock, and decided to get something to eat. At first, he headed straight for the kitchen before he remembered he had a houseguest, and it would be rude not to ask Timmy if he wanted anything.

As he turned back, he noticed how comfortable Timmy looked, laying across the small chair with his legs dangling over the edge. He seemed very relaxed and focused on whatever was on the screen.

The closer he got, the more he was able to decipher what he was fixated on. He stopped dead in his tracks, mere inches away.

That was...Was that? Was he watching porn?!

Yes! It was porn.

He gaped like a fish at the image of a tall, lithe blonde man with his head buried in a petite brunette man’s ass, through the headphones he could hear muffled grunting.

“What the hell is that?” He shouted louder than he had intended.

“Oh, shit!” Timmy ripped the earbuds out and scrambled to sit up. “I didn’t see you there.” His tone was more startled than embarrassed. Certainly not as embarrassed as Armie thought he should be.

“I would say so. Too busy getting off, I guess.”

“Whoa, it’s not like that!” Timmy set the laptop on the other arm of the chair and sat up fully. “My hands are nowhere near my pants.” He gestured to his crotch.

“As if that makes it better.” He rolled his eyes. “How could you watch _that_ around polite company?”

“Polite company?” Timmy snorted. “Are you sure you’re not a southern belle from the ’50s?”

“This isn’t funny.” He narrowed his eyes.

“It’s a little funny.” The muffled sound of grunts and moans increased in volume. Timmy closed the computer, and the grin fell from his face. “Look, maybe this is no excuse, but I haven’t been watching for long. I was scrolling through Facebook, and I got an alert about free porn - a lot of free porn - and just clicked on it to check it out for a second.” He finished with a shrug.

Armie mockingly mirrored his shrug while wrinkling his nose.

“It’s a little weird, but I’m not sure why you’re acting so offended.” Timmy crossed his arms over his chest and let out an exasperated sigh.

“I’m sorry, how am I supposed to react? I was caught off-guard. I wasn’t prepared to find you watching that.” He rubbed at his eyes.

“It’s called porn, Armie. Gay porn,” he added with far too much amusement in his voice.

“I know that,” he gritted out. “I’ve just never seen that before…” He could feel a deep blush blooming on his cheeks, and he had to look away, staring up at the ceiling.

“You’ve never seen rimming before?” His tone was so breezy. He tossed off the question as if asking if he’d never seen a weather report before.

As for the action in question, no, he hadn’t seen it before, though it was a term he was familiar with. The first time he’d heard it was when someone mentioned it in college. The person only vaguely hinted at what it meant, so sometime later, he looked it up. 

His first thought was it seemed...intriguing, but he couldn’t help quickly reverting to form and thinking it was wrong and far too dirty.

The only other time it came up was when his ex(?) - he wasn’t sure Nick qualified as an ex - had asked him if someone had ever done that to him. Just thinking about his embarrassing reaction made him cringe. He sounded like Woody Allen with how hard he had stammered, practically hyperventilating. He couldn’t look Nick in the eye. After that, Nick didn’t bring it up again.

It’s not that he didn’t watch porn. Frankly, he probably watched more than was appropriate, but he always skipped anything with rimming if he saw it in the tags.

Not only hadn’t he seen it before, he had never participated in that particular act. 

As much as it shocked him to see it just now, from the brief glimpse of it, his initial assessment held - intriguing.

“Are you serious? You’ve never seen someone getting eaten out before?” Again his reaction seemed so strange to Armie. He was behaving as if Armie had never seen something like _Star Wars._

Armie’s eyes widened, and he swallowed thickly. When he opened his mouth to speak, nothing came out.

“I’ll take that as a no...Wow!” He shook his head.

Now, he regretted not being selfish and just getting something for himself to eat. He could have avoided this whole torturous conversation.

“It can’t be that abnormal.” He hugged his arms around his stomach. “M-maybe you watch videos like that with your morning coffee, but I don’t.”

“It’s not like that.” Timmy slowly ran a hand through his curls and chuckled. “I just can’t help thinking if you’ve never seen it, does that mean you’ve never had it done to you? Or done it yourself?

“How could you…?” His nostrils flared - in humiliation and anger. “Where do you get off asking a question like that?”

“Where did I get off? Well, that’s a loaded question.” He snickered. When he saw Armie’s deep scowl, he tried to get serious again and sighed. “I’m sorry for prying, but it really shocks me! I can’t imagine not having that experience. RImming is one of my favorite things, sexually. Scratch that, one of my favorite things, period.”

If his insides weren’t churning with a mix of want and embarrassment, he might have smiled at the last part. He sounded so enthusiastic.

“It feels so fucking amazing.” Timmy closed his eyes and the sound he made…

It made Armie’s toes curl.

“Having someone do that to you - or doing it to someone else - it’s so intimate. The trust you’re placing in someone to be that vulnerable and exposed,” he whispered. “When they start kissing you there and then their tongue -”

“Stop,” Armie choked out - wanting him to stop, but also wanting him to go on forever.

It was too much. Timmy might not have been touching him, but his deep, breathless voice - with the images he was conjuring - that was intimate. Too intimate.

Opening his eyes, Timmy stared up at him with heavy-lidded eyes.

“You shouldn’t talk about things like that.” He swallowed.

“Why not?” Timmy looked him up and down.

“It’s just not…what you’re supposed to do.” He rubbed at his neck, feeling hot, and could feel his chest tightening. It was happening again, like with Nick. “Talking about sex like this is just...wrong.” He turned around and inhaled deeply.

Timmy crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re not a prude, are you?”

“What?” He squawked and whirled around. “Because I don’t want to talk about...rimming...you think that makes me a prude?”

“Not just that, but saying that talking about sex is wrong, and the way you reacted to me watching porn.”

“I don’t have a problem with you watching porn. I have a problem with you watching it right next to me. I have a problem with you asking me sexual questions.” He took a step back, putting some distance between them.

“Okay, let me get this straight.” Timmy’s jaw clenched. “You were perfectly fine with us having sex on our first date, but _talking_ about sex makes you squeamish?” He sounded so condescending.

Maybe he had a point, and it was odd, but he had no right to make him feel bad about it. Despite still feeling more affected by his talk about rimming than he’d care to admit, he stepped closer.

“Did it ever occur to you that I just don’t want to talk about sex with you?”

His shoulders slumped. Suddenly, Timmy seemed less sure and...sad?

“You’re right. I thought maybe we could sleep together that night, but you turned me down flat.” He pointed at him. “You don’t get to then turn around and ask me about my sex life.”

“You’re right.” He looked down at the ground, fidgeting on the spot.

“I’m what? I mean...o-okay.” Armie blinked at him, waiting for something else that didn’t come. No witty retort. No insults. No push back of any kind, just admitting he was wrong. It knocked him off balance.

“You don’t have to talk about it with me if you don’t want to.”

Armie just stared at him.

“Ugh...maybe I can make it up to you. The video I was watching - what I got to see of it - was hot. I don’t know If you’re curious at all, but if you want, I can send you the link to it.” Timmy nodded toward his laptop. 

The image of that man licking the other one, conflated with Timmy speaking so rapturously about rimming, and he felt like he needed to fan himself. 

What he really needed was some distance before he had a reaction he couldn’t control.

“No thanks.” He started to back away. “Just enjoy...yourself.” He cringed at the lameness and bolted.

When he got to his room, he felt like such an idiot. He flung himself on his bed and screamed into his pillows.

Damn you, mom, he thought.

While he was a little annoyed at Timmy for asking him about sex, his awkwardness was less about Timmy’s behavior at the end of their date and more because of his mother’s actions. 

Dru definitely considered homosexuality the ultimate evil, but her attitude about sex, in general, was puritanical. Armie and Viktor weren’t allowed to watch R-rated movies. Even after Armie turned seventeen, she didn’t relax the rule.

They were both able to get around the rule, though Armie didn’t try watching any of those types of movies until he was in high school.

Like he told Timmy on their date, raunchy music of any kind wasn’t allowed. Rap and metal were the worst offenders according to his mother, but even pop music - like Katy Perry - was considered worthless, if Dru considered the artist to be a sinner.

Once in middle school, he got so embarrassed because she refused to sign a permission slip to go to a museum. After all, it included “pornographic” art. For her, anything nude was deemed pornographic.

The leash she’d had him on was restrictive and tight, he still felt like he was choking even after getting away from her.

For so many years, he had to suppress his desires that giving in to those feelings in any way - including talking about sex - still felt a little unnatural to him. Nick had tried to get him out of his comfort zone in that area. In some ways, it worked. The farthest he’d gone sexually was with Nick, but talking about it with him was never easy.

The first person he really opened up to about it was Saoirse. She pushed him to realize that having these feelings - even giving into them - wasn’t wrong.

At first, she tried to get him to go on sites like Grindr. She helped him set up a profile, but after a while, he ignored it because people were way too forward for his comfort.

When he told her what he wanted the most was a real relationship, she backed off for a bit, before she began to push him towards Timmy. The words “hook-up” were never uttered, but she didn’t say it was more than that, either. If he was being unfair, he could blame her for the mix-up at the end of their date.

Stewing for a little while longer in embarrassment, after a few minutes, he removed himself from his pillow cocoon and watched a movie. He barely paid attention to _Deadpool_ , which was okay since he’d seen it four times already.

Not able to get his mind off Timmy, he paused the movie and called up Saoirse. He had avoided her calls last night, worried she’d get mad at him for what he said to Timmy, but he really needed her advice now.

She picked up on the first ring. “I swear, if you and Timmy don’t get better at communicating, I’m buying a hazmat suit, coming over there, and kicking both of your asses!”

“So, I guess Timmy told you what I said?” He winced and rubbed at his forehead.

“Uh…” There was clear confusion in her voice. “Do you mean what you said on your date?”

Shoot. Guess she didn’t know.

“Never mind,” he muttered. “How are you doing?”

“Fine. Not coughing. Not sick. Not currently quarantined. Still have a rosy glow on my cheeks. So, what happened now?” That all came out as basically one sentence. 

“Nothing.” His voice cracked like he was a teenager. It sounded unconvincing even to his own ears.

“Yeah, right,” she scoffed. “If you expect me to believe that, you must have me confused with a braindead moron who doesn’t know both of you so well. Something happened. What is it?”

“Oh, I’m just a giant idiot who keeps saying the wrong thing and acting like a freak.” He let out a long sigh and threw himself backward, just missing the pillow.

“Sweetie, you’re not a freak.” Her abrasiveness from before evaporated, and now she was so kind and gentle.

“Notice you didn’t argue me being an idiot.”

“Armie!’ She admonished him. “You know I don’t think you’re an idiot, either.”

“You would if you knew what I said.” He grimaced. “I compared Timmy to my homophobic mother.”

“What?” She screeched. “Please, backup and explain.” She lowered her voice. 

He wasn’t sure how far back to go.

“Um, yesterday after I stopped having a panic attack in the bathroom, I gave him a tour of the apartment, then I showed him the spare room he’d be staying in. He figured out I was one of those Hammers and accused me of being like, I guess, all the rich jerks he’s met in his life.”

“Oh, God,” Saoirse groaned. “That is completely unfair. I hope he apologized, or he is not going to like what I have to say the next time I call him.”

“He might have apologized, but we got into another argument. It’s like our pattern. Things look like they’re going well, and one of us messes it up.” He shook his head and pushed himself up. “This time, it was my turn. After he came downstairs again, he overheard me talking to my mother. I was trying to get her to let me speak to my brother.”

“Let me guess, that wretched woman wouldn’t let you?” She ground her teeth.

Despite the insult, he didn’t recoil at her comment the way he had at Timmy’s because he was used to it from her, plus she tried not to do it in front of him too often.

“No, she wouldn’t. I explained that to Timmy and why, and he called her a bitch.”

“Okay.” To say she was nonplussed would be an understatement. “You know I called her a lot worse when you told me what she said.”

“I know.” He buried his face in his knees. “It’s just Timmy...gets to me. He’s accused me of being judgmental, and he was being such a hypocrite. I lost it.”

“And that’s when you compared him to your mother?”

“Yes.” He banged his head against his knees.

“And knowing you, you apologized - probably over apologized.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” He pulled at a loose thread at the bottom of his sleep pants. “I just made him breakfast.”

“Pancakes?”

“Yeah.” He nodded.

“Enough for a plate or enough to open your own IHOP?” She teased.

“Alright. Guilty.” He couldn’t help chuckling. 

“Did it work?” Her laughter was light and full of warmth. 

“Well, he apologized and accepted my apology, but someone from the health department came with his stuff, and he got distracted by something.” He stopped. It was so stupid, but he could feel his cheeks getting hot.

“Got distracted by what?” She asked.

“His computer.”

“And…” It was clear she knew there was more to it and was waiting for him to fill in the blanks.

“When I got up to get something in the kitchen, I saw that he was watching porn.”

“Next to you?” The sharp sound of her voice practically pierced his eardrum.

“Well, not directly next to me,” he explained. “But I was in the room.”

“Wow.” She exhaled. It seemed like she couldn’t quite believe it. “He’s never done that next to me. Not that this is an excuse, but he must be really pent up.” She paused, and when she spoke next, the cheeky tone in her voice was unmistakable. “I can’t imagine why.”

“You can’t possibly be hinting that’s because of me.” He huffed. “No way. The idea of having sex with me was so repellent to him, he never wanted to see me again.”

“That wasn’t the reason.”

“Right.” He stood up and walked over to his closet. “Because he thought I was treating him like a whore. Even I know that was probably just an excuse.” He frowned at his obsessively neat line-up of shirts that were organized by color. 

“Not because he finds you repellent. Far from it,” she insisted.

“Did he say that to you?” He gripped his phone tighter. 

“Don’t do that?” She gulped.

“Don’t do what?”

“I love you both, but I’m not acting as a go-between for you two.” The statement was firm, and he knew she was serious. “If you want to know how he feels, you’re going to have to talk to each other like the adults that you are.”

He sat down heavily on the floor. “I don’t have to ask, even if he were attracted to me, he wouldn’t want to deal with me and my weird sexual stuff.”

“Your sexual stuff is not weird. Your mother,” she blew out a long breath, “was a very strong influence on you. Because of her, you’re a little repressed.”

“It’s more than a little.” He slowly ran a hand through his hair. “I practically ran screaming out of the room when I caught him watching porn.”

“Are you exaggerating?” He thought he heard the sound of her refrigerator door closing.

“Only slightly. He was watching a video of someone rimming...I guess that’s how you’d put it...another guy.” The image was still firmly emblazoned in his mind. “He started talking about how amazing it felt, and I got flustered.”

“Yeah, Timmy really has no filter when it comes to sex.” She took a swig of something and swallowed.

“I’m starting to see that.” He let out a slight chuckle. “He thinks I’m a prude because I’m not comfortable talking about it.”

“He said that?”

“Yeah, after asking me if I’ve ever been ‘eaten out’ or if I’d done it myself.” He squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Timmy.” Her disappointment came through loud and clear.

“When I told him he didn’t have a right to ask me personal questions, he backed down and said I was right.” He opened his eyes and stared at the floor.

“See.” She perked up. “He can be reasonable.”

“Yeah,” he drawled. “I think he was trying to be polite and offered to send me the link to the porn he was watching, and I just couldn’t do it. I just kept thinking about what I’d already seen and Timmy talking about experiencing it and the way he said it…” Even now it was turning him on.

“So you left.”

“So I left.”

“Ugh.” She paused, and it stretched out longer than he expected. “I can’t help feeling like this is all my fault.”

“What do you mean?” He stood and aimlessly walked over to his dresser by the tv, leaning against it.

“I thought I was helping by encouraging you to get out there, but maybe you really weren’t ready.” She sounded so guilt-ridden.

“It’s not your fault. I could have said no. When I didn’t want to do Grindr anymore, you didn’t push me.” He tried to reassure her.

“I pushed you about Timmy.”

“Trust me, you didn’t need to push me about Timmy.” He shook his head with a small grin. “I saw that picture of him, and I was gone. I needed to go out with him.” It unnerved him how lovesick he already felt. “He’s so beautiful. Even after how the date ended, whenever I’m around him, I just want more.”

“I knew it!” Saoirse squealed. 

“You just said you shouldn’t have pushed it.” His eyes widened at her shift to exuberance. 

“Oh, that was just a momentary crisis of conscience. That’s over now.”

He briefly put his head in both hands and laughed. 

“You two are perfect for each other,” she declared with all confidence.

“You keep saying that, but we’re so different.” He turned and stared at his reflection through the television. A big part of him wanted to believe her.

“People don’t have to be carbon copies of each other to be a good match. Look at Hugh and me.” Her voice always took on a dreamy-quality when she mentioned him.

She always talked about the string of losers she’d been with and how she finally felt she’d found the right guy and right balance with Hugh.

“I’m loud, and he’s quiet,” she continued. “Sometimes I actually forget he’s sitting right next to me.”

That was true. He was even quieter than Armie was.

“He’s annoyingly patient, while I want what I want when I want it. He’s obsessed with rugby, and I’d pay good money to never see another match.” She snickered. “But he calms me down when I really need it. I push him to fight for what he wants. He really listens. Sometimes he has no choice to.” She giggled before it trailed off. “We get each other. We compliment each other. I think it could be the same for you and Timmy if you could get out of your own way.”

Even though he knew she was right, it was a lot easier said than done.

“Just please try and talk to him?” She implored him.

“I’ll try,” he relented as much for her sake as his.

“That’s all I can ask.” He heard the rustle of sheets and assumed she sat down in bed. “Well, also, please don’t beat yourself up because of your issues. We’ve all got them.” She took a deep breath. “How do I say this without betraying his confidence?” She exhaled. “Timmy tries to appear tough, but he has his issues, too. You’re not alone. Be there for each other.”

“Okay.” This was clearly important to her and to him, too. He wanted this to work out more than anything.

“I love you.” She sounded choked up.

“I love you, too. I know you know how to take care of yourself, but please be careful. I don’t want you to have to quarantine, too.”

“Unfortunately, if things keep going the way they are, I might not have a choice.” There was a level of anxiety in her words, he wasn’t used to from her. 

It occurred to him that maybe he had been selfish. He’d been so focused on his issues, he hadn’t thought about the world out there. There were so many being affected by this virus, not just him and Timmy. 

Just thinking about how much worse things could get made him shudder.

After his talk with Saoirse, he decided he’d avoided Timmy long enough. He still hadn’t decided what he’d do when he got downstairs. Would he try to ignore the subject of sex entirely or face it head-on and offer some explanation for why he had acted so squirrely?

Before he got close to the stairs, he heard a noise from the direction of Timmy’s room. The sound was so brief and muffled, he almost wondered if he imagined it, until a few seconds later, there was another sound. It was still muffled but longer and more unmistakable.

His breath caught in his throat, and he froze in place. As if pulled by a magnet, he found himself getting closer and closer to Timmy’s door. It was as if the closer he got, the louder and more piercing Timmy’s moans became.

Given his earlier activity, it shouldn’t have been a surprise to him that he was masturbating. Honestly, he really couldn’t blame him. There wasn’t much else to do, and if he had access to Timmy’s equipment…

Stopping at the door, he waited, but things remained eerily quiet. Maybe he’d...finished?

“Yes!” Timmy suddenly cried out.

He had to clamp his hand over his mouth to keep from yelping in surprise.

Though he knew it made him a creep - but not being able to stop - he pressed his ear to the door.

“Oh, God.” Timmy sounded so desperate. “Don’t stop.”

It became clear to him that this must have been a fantasy of some sort.

“Right there...Armie!”

He pulled back slowly and stared at the door in open-mouthed shock. Not only was he masturbating, but he was thinking about...him? But...no. This couldn’t be real.

“Oh, fuck!” He panted. “Put your tongue right there, Armie.”

Okay, so he was definitely thinking about him. 

Timmy keened. 

_My God_. It was the most heavenly sound he’d ever heard. The way his pants tightened so fast, made him lightheaded, as did Timmy’s continual noises of pleasure.

What was he doing to himself right now? Most likely, he had his dick in his hand. Was he pumping fast or slow? How hard was his grip?

Since Timmy was fantasizing about him, he couldn’t help wondering what was the exact picture in his head? What did Timmy want him to do to him? What was “he” doing to him?

What _was_ he doing?

As he started to back away, he shook his head. This was so wrong. Just because Timmy was staying at his house did not give him the right to invade his privacy. And to be getting off on what he was hearing?

Rubbing his hands roughly down his face, he retreated - as quiet as he could - back to his room and shut the door. Despite knowing how bad his behavior was, he couldn’t get those sounds out of his head. They were playing in a constant loop, and he couldn’t stop it.

When he squeezed his eyes shut, it just made it worse because now the images he’d been picturing earlier were back - and even more vivid.

Timmy was on all fours. One hand had a firm grip on his erection and was tugging slowly as he tossed a seductive look at him over his shoulder.

“You like looking at me.” He licked his lips. “Do you like how open I am for you?”

Armie squeezed his eyes tighter and staggered toward his bed. He kept shaking his head as he crawled into it. He couldn’t do this. He shouldn’t.

But, God, he was so hard. He rolled on his back.

“It’s okay,” his fantasy Timmy said. He slowly sucked his finger into his mouth, moaning like a porn star. “I want you to touch me, Armie.” He rubbed his wet finger over his puckered hole. “Touch me.”

He could hear the same desperate sounds as before, and he couldn’t hold back anymore. Making quick work of it, he yanked his pants down to his knees.

As he lay back down, he lowered his hand and sighed as he closed his fist around his aching dick. It had never felt this good just touching himself, and a low groan rumbled in his chest.

“Fuck, look at how hard you are.” Timmy’s voice was still in his head, so breathy and filled with lust.

Armie started to move his hand, going slow at first.

“So hard for me.” His sexy voice purred. “You wish that were my hand, don’t you?”

He sped up his movement. Normally, he would use lube, but he was leaking copious amounts of pre-come now and used it to slick himself up.

“Or,” he could picture Timmy biting his lip, “do you wish it were my mouth?”

Armie’s breath hitched when an image of Timmy’s perfect mouth wrapped around the tip of his dick came to his mind in vivid technicolor. His body arched off the bed.

“Jesus, Jesus, _fuck_!” His hand was a blur now. 

“Do you want me to take your big cock down further?”

A plaintive whimper escaped his mouth. He was so afraid the real Timmy might hear him now, but maybe that would turn him on. The thought certainly turned him on, and he gripped himself even tighter.

“I’d let your thick cock hit the bag of my throat and love it. Make me gag on it, Armie.” His eyes rolled to the back of his head.

Already he was so close to the edge.

“If this were really happening, just imagine how good my warm, wet mouth would feel taking all you have to give and _loving every second of it_.

While he knew he would love it, he couldn’t help wondering if real Timmy would. Shaking off the thought, he knew it didn’t matter. Right now, he just wanted to live in this fantasy. Timmy on his knees and sucking him as if it was the only thing in the world he wanted to be doing.

“You want me so much, don’t you?” In his mind, Timmy was stroking him impossibly fast with his hand. “Don’t you?”

His mouth fell open, and his head thrashed against his pillow as he could feel his balls draw up and his body ignited.

“Say it.”

“I…” It was all he could get out before he trailed off with a long moan. His dick throbbing in his tight fist.

“Are you going to come for me?” He licked the tip of his dick. “Come.” Timmy took him all the way down. “For me.”

His voice echoed in his ear as his load shot all over his stomach. It was more than he’d seen in a long time and he grabbed the pillow to mask his guttural groans. Full body tremors racked his body.

When his spasms finally subsided, he sunk down into the mattress, curling on his side. Somehow, it didn’t occur to him the mess he was making. He was too busy dealing with the mess in his head.

While that orgasm felt incredible, he couldn’t stop thinking about why he started masturbating in the first place. His attraction to Timmy was off the charts, and there was nothing to feel guilty about there, but eavesdropping on him and using that to fuel a masturbatory fantasy just felt perverted and sick.

Perverted and sick. Just two of the things his mother called him. He clutched his stomach thinking maybe he was proving her right.

Not bothering to clean up, he hugged the pillow to his chest and shut his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @filmgeekstacey on Tumblr. Please comment - nicely - here or there! 😘


	5. You Want to Stick that Where?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timmy tests Armie's patience, then later the two take the most important test of their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those still reading and for the nice comments on the previous chapter!
> 
> Like I mentioned before, my only medical knowledge is from Google and shows like _The Good Doctor_. 😁

Timmy woke up and stretched and immediately wrinkled his nose. The dried come on his chest was itchy and he’d had better smelling days.

After one of his best orgasms in ages - his come gushing out as he pictured Armie’s large hand engulfing and pumping his cock - he had drifted off into a peaceful sleep, but now in the cold light of day, he didn’t feel so much at peace, but like a gross, sticky man in desperate need of a shower.

So, when he finally got out of bed, he peeled off his clothes, tossed them aside, and marched to the bathroom. He took a steamy, relaxing shower. He’d taken one yesterday, but it felt good knowing he’d get to change into new clothes this time.

Last night, after heading upstairs and taking a porn break, he’d gone more thoroughly through what Saoirse had packed for him. He laughed when he saw she had packed some of his funny t-shirts, like his “That’s what she said” one and a blue shirt that read “NYers Do It Better.” The thought of Armie’s reaction to the second one tickled him, so he decided to go with that one for the day.

It seemed Saoirse still had her matchmaker hat on since she packed a dress shirt and slacks for him, along with an economy-sized box of condoms. He snickered as he stared at it. Despite things being a little better yesterday - apart from the porn incident - he doubted they’d be having a romantic dinner where he’d need a dressy outfit and sex probably wouldn’t be happening either. For that, he only had himself to blame.

When he went downstairs, he wasn’t sure what to expect. They didn’t get into an argument, but he expected some awkwardness, especially with the way Armie had fled the room last night. He was prepared to apologize again if it was necessary, but as he descended the stairs he wasn’t sure it would be. The same smells from Armie’s apology breakfast the day before wafted up to his nose, though that must be because they had leftovers. It wouldn’t make sense for Armie to make another apology breakfast since he hadn’t done anything wrong.

Arriving in the dining area, he saw french toast, which is what they had left from the previous breakfast, but he had made a stack of new pancakes, eggs, and toast as well. It wasn’t the same massive spread as before, but it was probably more than they needed.

“Good morning,” Armie said as he came in from the kitchen with a jug of orange juice.

“Good morning.” He gestured to the table. “You probably didn’t need to make breakfast again.”

“It’s fine. I like cooking, so it’s no trouble.” He put the orange juice on the table and sat down.

Timmy joined him and picked up a plate. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Armie staring at his shirt. “You like it?”

His remark seemed to startle Armie and he stared up at him before he cleared his throat. “It’s...cute.” 

“And accurate.” He smirked. 

Without responding, Armie quickly looked down at his plate.

After getting some pancakes, eggs, and a piece of toast, he sat down. He nibbled on a piece of toast. Armie wasn’t making much eye contact and seemed entirely focused on the food before him. It was a bit of a contrast from yesterday when he didn’t seem so withdrawn. Timmy wasn’t sure if it was a reaction to their awkward moment last night. 

“About last night…” He started.

“What about last night?” Armie’s eyes widened. “Nothing happened last night.” He heaped a load of eggs on his plate.

He tilted his head and sat back. Armie reacted so strongly last night. There was no way he forgot what he caught him doing. “But you saw me?”

Dropping his fork, it made a loud clatter as it landed on Armie’s plate. 

The sound caused him to jump in his seat.

“I-I-I didn’t.” Armie swallowed. “How could I? You were in your room behind closed doors.” He picked up his fork and held it tight in his fist. “I didn’t see you. I didn’t hear you.”

“Hear me?” He scratched his head. Was he imagining things or was Armie sweating? Timmy folded his arms and leaned on the table. “There wasn’t anything to hear. You just saw me watching porn, which caused you to flee from the room.”

“I didn’t flee.” There was a cute tinge of petulance to his voice.

“Fine. Let me rephrase. When you left in haste.” He chuckled, trying not to have too much fun teasing him.

There was a small grin fighting its way onto Armie’s lips.

“Anyway, that’s what I was talking about. What were you talking about?”

The smile dropped from his face. “Nothing.”

His eyes were shifty and he was squirming in his seat. He was scratching at the back of his hand like he wanted to rip off his skin. What was making him so uncomfortable? Just because he caught him watching porn? It’s not like he saw him -

When the realization hit him, his mouth fell open. “You did hear me, didn’t you?” He whispered.

“I don’t-I-heard what?” Armie looked down further as if he was looking for an escape hatch on the floor. 

“What I was doing behind closed doors.”

It had never occurred to him that Armie would hear him, but now that he knew he did, a shiver traveled up his spine.

All the fantasies he had about Armie last night came back to him. He’d called out his name a couple of times. Had he heard? What did he think? How did it make him feel? Did it make him want to join in? Did it make him hard? What did he do?

He had to cross his legs as he could feel his cock begin to harden, very glad he was wearing sweatpants. Maybe it should have embarrassed him that Armie overheard, but it didn’t. On their date, he’d made it clear he was attracted to him. Nothing had changed on that front. It didn’t bother him that Armie had to know that now.

“What you do in your room is your business. I don’t need to know about it.” He shoveled eggs into his mouth.

“But you do know about it.” He dragged his teeth over his bottom lip and eyed Armie up and down. “You know I was _touching_ myself.”

As Armie began to sputter, some egg shrapnel came flying out of his mouth, landing on the plate and table.

Okay, that reaction he didn’t expect. For a second, he worried Armie would choke, but he quickly drank some water and seemed like he was getting his bearings.

Given his previous reaction, he decided to try a gentler approach. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. I’m not. People do it. It’s not something to be ashamed of.”

Armie’s eyes briefly flicked up towards him seeming to search for a sign that Timmy was teasing him or being dishonest, so Timmy made sure not to look away so he could see everything he needed to. When he turned away, he wasn’t sure if he’d gotten his answer.

“I’m just surprised you heard me.” He sat back. “I didn’t think a place like this would have such thin walls.” He scrunched up his mouth. “Then again, it could be that I’m that loud.”

His hands balled into fists on top of the table.

“I am very vocal.” He tossed off the comment in an off-hand way. “A partner once told me that when I’m coming, I have a scream that could wake the dead.”

“Can you please stop talking about this?” Armie begged.

It was on the tip of his tongue to argue, but he held up his hands instead. “If that’s what you want, fine.” 

Obviously, Armie was uncomfortable. If he didn’t want to talk about it, he could let it drop. He could be reasonable. Easy.

Picking up his fork, he pushed around some eggs on his plate. The silence stretched on and then all he could hear was forks scraping against plates and Armie’s still labored breathing. Slowly chewing, his brain would not stop thinking about Armie outside his door, listening to him pleasure himself as he thought about _him_. It had to have some effect on him. 

He had to know.

Letting out a giant huff, he put his fork down. “You heard me jacking off and I’m not supposed to ask you about it?”

Armie sat back and gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

“How can we not talk about it?” Armie opened his mouth to respond, but he cut him off. “Look, I know what you said before about how I don’t have the right to ask you personal questions because I turned you down and I get it, but this is different now. You heard me masturbating.”

“I never said that I did.” Armie scratched the back of his neck and looked down at the table.

“So, you didn’t? You didn’t hear me?” Even though Armie was avoiding eye contact, he continued to stare him down. He softened his voice. “I’m not mad that you heard me. I’m not.” He let out a long sigh. “But I will be mad if you lie to me.”

That got Armie’s attention and he peeked up at him with wide eyes.

“Did you…?”

The inner struggle was clear on his face as Armie held his breath. Finally, he gave a tiny, almost imperceptible, nod.   
“Okay.” He let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Thank you. I mean it -”

“But, I can’t talk about this. Not with you,” Armie added, lowering his head, and gripping the back of his neck with both hands.

“Not with me.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “This is about me or just about not wanting to talk about sex in general?” 

“What difference does it make?” He gritted out.

“It’s just…” Glancing up at Armie’s face, he could see he was still anxious, but his voice was tense and his jaw was clenched. Clearly, he was starting to get agitated. 

To avoid a potential fight he decided he shouldn’t keep going. He should have just stuck to not saying anything. “Forget it.”

There was a short moment of silence.

“What?” Armie rubbed at his eyes. He inhaled deeply and let it out slowly.

“Nothing.” He pursed his lips. “I don’t want to fight.”

“We won’t.” Given his previous agitation, Timmy was surprised he was pushing this. Guess his curiosity took over.

“With our track record?” He raised his eyebrow.

“We’re adults. I think we can handle it.” His voice was steady as he leaned back, and folded his hands in his lap. “You have something to say. I think I’m getting to know you a little and it’s going to drive you crazy if you don’t say it. So, just get it over with now.”

Still unsure if Armie was okay with him pressing on, he hesitated for another second, but looking into Armie’s eyes he could see he was much calmer than before. 

“I can’t help wondering how you - who to me seem a little uptight about sex - decided that our date was supposed to just be a hook-up? Saoirse wouldn’t have told you that.”

“No, she didn’t.”

“So, why’d you think that?” He shrugged.

“I thought that was what our date was supposed to be because Saoirse had been pushing me to try Grindr and other things because she wanted me to finally -” He cut himself off with a choked noise. “Nevermind.”   
“What?” Timmy narrowed his eyes.

“Nothing,” Armie grunted. Balling up his napkin, he threw it on his plate, picking it up as he stood in a hurry. Without saying another word, he scampered off to the kitchen.

Timmy watched his retreating form. It was obvious Saoirse had wanted to get him laid. It made some sense, though why she would set them up knowing his views about sleeping together on the first date was a mystery to him. In general, though, he got it.

Armie was an incredibly good-looking guy who grew up with a bigoted, conservative controlling mother who he’d recently come out to. It makes sense that he might be repressed and had needed help to open up sexually. He’d probably need to get laid for a really...long time.

Slowly, he turned his head in the direction of the kitchen.

Wait. Could it be?

With nothing but questions on his mind, he walked to the kitchen. Armie had his back to him by the sink. His back stiffened when he heard his footsteps.

While he desperately wanted to know the answer to his question, he’d already made Arthur so uncomfortable this morning, he didn’t want to make it worse.

But, ugh...He rubbed his forehead. Was it possible Armie was a virgin?

Would he be able to let this go? Armie was right that not saying anything would drive him crazy.

Suddenly, Armie shuddered and let out a gasp. 

Timmy stepped toward him as Armie reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

“Hello?” Armie let out a deep breath. “It’s very good to hear from you.” Pause. “You will? Thank you so much.” He turned around, sharply inhaling. It was obvious he wasn’t expecting Timmy to be so close.

Taking a giant step back, he immediately ran out of space when his back hit the edge of the counter. 

“That was Dr. Stuhlbarg,” Armie explained. “We can get tested today.”

“Oh, thank God!” He closed his eyes and sighed in relief. The way the doctor had made it sound at first, he had feared they would have had to wait for much longer, though unfortunately, who knew how long it would take to get any results back. At least they’d be one step closer to knowing now.

“Yeah.” Armie rubbed a hand through his hair. “Are you done with breakfast?”

He looked behind at the table. “Uh...no.”

“Okay.” That’s all he said before leaving the kitchen.

As he walked back to the table, he saw Armie heading up the stairs.

Sitting back down, he tried to concentrate on eating, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the test, but foremost about Armie’s potential virginity. He managed to scarf down two pancakes and half a piece of toast before calling it quits. He took his plate and put it in the sink, noticing Armie didn’t finish cleaning his.

When Armie didn’t come back downstairs, he sat down in the living room waiting for whoever would come to administer the test. He debated whether he should watch some news or look up more about the virus. Deciding he needed to be somewhat informed, he watched a few minutes, which did thoroughly freak him out hearing about the growing number of cases.

After that, he needed something to feel better and decided to watch one of his favorite comfort movies, _The Breakfast Club_. He turned on the tv and found it. Just as he was about to start the movie, the doorbell chimed.

Starting to get up automatically, he stopped halfway to the door. He thought better of it, remembering how Armie reacted the last time he answered his door.

When Armie came downstairs, his brow furrowed, as he glanced at him. “Why didn’t you answer it?” He didn’t sound accusatory, just curious.

“The last time I did, you were less than pleased,” he replied.

“You listened to me?” Armie grinned, and there was a bit of a twinkle in his eyes. “Thank you.”

The two words were so simple, but it pleased him so much, the way praise often does from your favorite person.

Not knowing how else to respond, he carded his hands through his curls and tucked a couple of tendrils behind his ears. 

They walked to the door together.

“The next time you can answer it if you want,” Armie said as he reached for the doorknob. 

“Okay.”

When he opened the door, he recognized Dr. Stuhlbarg right away from his eyes behind the mask and face shield.

“Dr. Stuhlbarg!” Armie seemed equally surprised to see him.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Hammer, Mr. Chalamet.”

“Hi,” they said, almost in unison.

“When you said someone would be dropping by to give us the test, I didn’t know it was going to be you.” Armie stepped aside to let him in.

“I assumed you’d have some questions I’d be better suited to answer,” he replied after finally making it past the threshold. “Though I must warn that because of the nature of this virus - how new it is, how it’s evolving - that I might not be able to provide you with the answer to all your questions, but I’ll try my best.”

“That’s fine. Thank you for coming. We appreciate it.” He turned to Timmy to confirm he felt the same.

Timmy nodded. 

“Where should we do this?” Armie played with the buttons of his black button-down shirt. His voice sounded strained.

“Wherever you prefer is fine,” the doctor answered.

“Living room, then,” Armie stated and led them there.

As soon as they got there, they both sat down on the couch, while Dr. Stuhlbarg set his bag down, preparing for the tests.

“I was doing some research online and some people said the test really hurts.” Armie squeezed his hands together and couldn’t stop fidgeting. “Is that true?”

“I believe it is something that depends on the person.” Dr. Stuhlbarg put on a new pair of gloves. “I won’t lie - the test can be uncomfortable, but most people only feel a mild discomfort.”

The way he blinked up at him and swallowed, his answer didn’t seem to put Armie’s mind at ease.

For Timmy, he wasn’t too worried since he’d never had an issue with needles or anything like that. Then again... His anxiety ticked up when Dr. Stuhlbarg took out a very large swab. As the doctor explained the test, his eyes widened.

“You’re going to stick _that_ all the way up our noses?” He pointed at the swab.

“Yes.”

While he was more nervous now, Armie’s reaction was worse. He put his head between his knees. Timmy could hear him breathing deeply, in and out, over and over.

“It’s alright.” He tried to sound confident. “It won’t be for that long. It’ll be fine.”

After letting out a breath once more, Armie glanced up at him.

He nodded, with the biggest grin he could muster.

Slowly, Armie sat up.

“Are you good?”

“Y-yeah,” Armie croaked out.

“Do you want me to go first?” He almost reached out to hold his hand but kept his hands planted on the couch. 

“Uh…” He looked down at his lap. “No. If you have a bad reaction, it will probably freak me out more.” He turned to the doctor, then back to Timmy. “If that’s okay.”

“It’s fine,” he replied with a half shrug. “It’s why I asked.”

“Okay.” Armie chewed on his bottom lip. “Let’s get this over with,” he said to the doctor.

“Tip your head back and take a deep breath.” Dr. Stuhlbarg stepped closer. 

He did as he was asked. 

When a soft whimper escaped Armie’s mouth, he listened to his instincts and held his hand, squeezing it. Armie instantly relaxed and then it was done.

After a moment, he turned to Timmy with a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

That warm, pleased feeling from before was back and stronger than ever.

The doctor was right - his reaction was different from Armie’s. It was definitely not the most pleasant feeling, but he barely moved or reacted when he stuck the swab up his nostril.

“Are you okay?” Armie tentatively put his hand on his knee.

So focused on the sensation of Armie’s hand on him, he almost forgot about the test. “Um...yeah.” 

Trying to avoid eye contact with Armie, he glanced at the doctor, who had a satisfied look on his face.

“I can’t promise how fast we’ll process your samples, but I’ll try to make sure we get to it as soon as possible.” The doctor closed his bag, then clapped his hands together as he faced them. “Now, do you have any questions?”

“I’ve read that even if you get this and survive, you could still be in trouble,” Armie started without missing a beat, probably the first of about a million questions. “Do you know what the long-term effects are?” 

“While we still haven’t done as much research as I would like, some people who have recovered have had lingering respiratory issues. In some severe cases, there’s been lasting heart damage.”

Armie looked to the side and blew out a breath.

“I applaud you for staying informed, but you may be getting ahead of yourself. That is something that you might not even have to worry about,” the doctor added in a calm, steadying voice.

“Exactly.” He joined in. “One of my grandmother’s favorite phrases is ‘don’t borrow trouble.’”

“Okay, but there are things we need to worry about, or think about, at least.” He looked between the two of them. “What about the symptoms we have to look out for? Some people have no symptoms, but others have ones that are very similar to the flu - chills, fever, coughing...If someone had those - or had previous breathing issues - how would they be able to know the difference?” 

There was a slight edge to his voice that worried Timmy. It was clear he had a lot of worries about this virus - with good reason - but there was something about these questions that seemed desperate. His voice was tremulous and he was holding the edge of the couch in a death grip.

Dr. Stuhlbarg sat on the arm of the couch next to Armie. “While there are some definite similarities between COVID and the flu, the more severe cases of COVID are far worse and deadlier. If you have any prolonged symptoms or issues, you need to call a doctor, or preferably, an ambulance,” Dr. Stuhlbarg stared down at Armie with patient eyes. “Does that help at all or Is there anything I should know?”

It seemed like Armie wanted to say more, as he gazed up at the doctor, but he ended up shaking his head.

“Is there anything else you’d like to ask?”

“Not...right now.” He stared at the ground.

“Alright. But if you have any other questions, you have my card.” Dr. Stuhlbarg patted Armie’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” Armie murmured.

They got up and escorted him to the door. Armie hung back most of the way.

Dr. Stuhlbarg turned as they reached it. “You’ll be contacted as soon as we have your results.”

“We really appreciate it,” Timmy offered, beginning to extend his hand for a handshake but retreating halfway when he thought better of it.

“I’m glad to see you two making the best of this.” The doctor grinned. 

He and Armie shared a quick glance. Armie didn’t have much of a reaction to his comment. If Timmy were to guess, he seemed to still be distracted by the previous conversation.

“It’s a stressful situation, but maybe a good thing came out of it,” he continued.

If he didn’t know better, he would have thought the doctor was part of some plot with Saoirse to get the two of them together.

“Yeah,” Armie whispered.

Timmy was a bit startled by his response. Guess he wasn’t as distracted as he’d thought. His own reaction was to shift on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Good afternoon, gentleman.” Dr. Stuhlbarg nodded and left.

As they walked back to the living room, Armie heaved a big sigh. “I know you said it’s not my fault, but I can’t help feeling like I have to apologize for getting you into this.”

“Armie, I’m an adult.” He sat on the ottoman. “I knew what was going on and I agreed to go out with a stranger. I’m the one who initiated the hand-holding.”

“I bet you really regret that now.” Armie chewed on his bottom lip. 

“No.” He shook his head. “I don’t regret it.” For a second, an internal debate waged inside of him about admitting this next part, but, ultimately, he decided to take a chance with some honesty. “I think what I regret is not taking you upstairs.”

“What?” Armie’s legs seemed wobbly and he put his hand out and slowly leaned against the wall. “But-but you said -”

“I know what I said,” he cut him off. “But I think, maybe, you and Saoirse were right and I might have overreacted.”

Armie’s eyes were wide and he was barely blinking.

“I just keep thinking it would have felt really good. In fact, I was thinking about it last night and I -”  
“Wait.” Armie held up his hand.

He glanced up and tried to read Armie’s expression. Mostly he seemed confused and nervous and tired. Also...guilty?

“With the news and the test and everything, my brain is just…” He shut his eyes. “I can’t really think about sex right now. I’m sorry.”

How he was feeling was understandable. A lot had happened today, and it was barely even noon, so he decided to change the mood.

“It’s okay.” Timmy looked over at the television. “Before the doctor arrived, I was going to watch one of my favorite comfort movies - _The Breakfast Club_. Would you like to join me?”

“Sure. I love that movie.” His body visibly relaxed and he looked up with a small smile. 

That was a relief. He’d hate to have another reason to be annoyed with him.

He moved to sit on the couch, with Armie joining him soon after. There was space between them, but he was close enough to feel his body heat.

“Is this okay?” Armie turned to him. “Do you want me to move?”

“No.” Did he say that too quickly? “You’re good.”

The relieved grin he flashed at him was the biggest one he’d given him since their date. There were adorable crinkles around his eyes. Timmy’s stomach flipped so hard, his hand flew up to it.

“Timmy?”

He blinked at him, not sure how long he’d been staring.

“Are you going to start the movie?”

“The movie?” He looked toward the tv, then back at him. “Right. The movie. Yeah. Right. Okay.”

After reaching for the remote, he turned on the television and started it. There were times his instinct to reach out for his hand again was strong, so he kept his hands squeezed between his thighs.

Armie really did love the movie and laughed in the same places Timmy did, even when they got to the “Are you a virgin” scene.

It was the longest time they’d been together and not argued. While it wasn’t the dirtier activity he’d love to be doing, it was still nice. If it could be like this for the next week and a half, maybe it wouldn’t be a nightmare after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are greatly appreciated! 😘 
> 
> @filmgeekstacey on Tumblr

**Author's Note:**

> @filmgeekstacey on Tumblr. Please let me know what you think!


End file.
